


You Can Call Me What You Want

by secondstar



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Alternate Universe- Escort, Anal Fingering, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Face-Fucking, Facials, Fingerfucking, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Multi, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Orgasm Delay/Denial, POV Alternating, Phone Sex, Rimming, Snowballing, Spanking, Switching, mentions of dom/sub relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-06
Updated: 2013-09-20
Packaged: 2017-12-22 16:10:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 69,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/915270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/secondstar/pseuds/secondstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles Stilinski specializes in giving his clients exactly what they need.He knows what to say and how to act. It’s easy and he’s good at it. He never breaks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Major shout out to my betas: lsdme, ionsquare, mumblo, and qhuinn. thanks to rrrobin for the summary. 
> 
> thanks to everyone who submitted their smutty needs/kinks they wanted to see! I do believe I will be putting ALL of them in this fic at some point. If you want to submit something you would like to see written feel free to do so at [my tumblr](http://slipintothewater.tumblr.com)!
> 
> date: please do not REPOST this fic anywhere else without my consent. Please do not put it on GoodReads that is a site for PUBLISHED works, not fic.

Stiles Stilinski loves sex. 

He doesn’t just casually like sex, though. He fucks and gets fucked for a living. He grew up being told to do what you love and you will never regret your life, so he took that advice and made a name for himself. He went to college, majored in Business, even started to get his Master’s before he decided he didn’t need an MFA to define him. He gave himself the title ‘Personal Consultant’ and started his own business. He may sell his body for money, but that doesn’t mean that this is a life that he merely settled for. This was who he was, what he wanted to do. And he was damned good at his job.

Stiles led a mostly normal day-to-day life. He woke up by his alarm, hitting snooze at least three times before rolling out of bed. He always worked out first thing in the morning, otherwise his day would be thrown off completely. There was a gym in his building, a few floors down, that he went to. Thirty minutes on the treadmill, then weight training for another thirty; he always made a protein shake afterward, to keep his muscles from aching. The last thing he wanted was to be too sore for sex. Then he showered. 

Showers were never a short ordeal for Stiles. He prided himself on his shower, with two shower heads and amazing pressure with enough room for two or more people. He tended to take his time when cleaning himself. 

With a towel wrapped around his waist, Stiles made his morning coffee. It was rarely actually morning when he made it, more like two in the afternoon, but he called it his morning coffee anyway. It wasn’t until he had a pair of boxer briefs on that he even picked up his phone to check for messages. He didn’t open a single one of them until he was at least three sips into his coffee with the TV on in the background, CNN playing almost too low to hear. 

Voicemails were always first, listened to as his Mac booted up. He wrote notes down on post-it notes as he listened. Cancelled appointments, requested kinks to negotiate, tests that had come back negative from possible future clients, numerous voicemails from his father asking him to call home when he got the chance. Stiles opened Google Calendar then, making changes where he needed to. He kept everything organized, using different colors for different clients. Each client had a Google Doc that listed their kinks, likes and dislikes, rate given per hour which differed depending on what was asked of Stiles, as well as their test results. 

Stiles was a stickler for his clients being tested. Sometimes they asked for things a normal escort wouldn’t do, not if they wanted to keep clean. Stiles made sure that he stayed clean by having himself tested regularly. His Google Calendar let him know when his appointments to get tested were, since he had to go intermittently for all of the different tests. Stiles groaned to himself when he saw that he had an appointment at 3:30 with Dr. Deaton for some bloodwork. 

Dr. Deaton was where Stiles sent all of his clients. It made Stiles feel safer that the same man testing him was testing everyone else that he slept with as well. Dr. Deaton knew Stiles’ profession, but he remained discreet because of the amount of clientele he got based on Stiles’ business. Stiles was almost done with his coffee as he skimmed over some emails when his phone rang. Stiles stood up from his seat at the bar as he answered. 

“Morning, Allison,” Stiles said as he cradled his phone between his cheek and his shoulder as he emptied the rest of his cooled coffee down the sink, rinsed it, then put it in the dishwasher. 

“ _Afternoon_ , boss,” Allison replied with a hint of laughter. She was his personal assistant, along with his best friend’s fiancée. Basically, he couldn’t have asked for someone better to help him keep his life together. Stiles rolled his eyes at her as he made his way into his bedroom. 

“I’m on my way to Deaton,” Stiles said, letting her know that he had, in fact, looked at his calendar. He missed one appointment, _one_ , and he can’t be trusted not to fuck up again.

“Aw, I am so proud of you, reading your own calendar like a big boy,” Allison cooed sarcastically. “I was calling you because you have a new request that came in.” 

“Keep talking,” Stiles said as he put Allison on speakerphone so that he could get dressed. 

“He is early thirties, mysterious, handsome-”

“Allison, is he there right now?” Stiles asked, exasperated as he buttoned up the cuffs of his shirt. 

“Mmhm,” Allison drawled. “He’s waiting in the lobby. I told him you weren’t coming in until later, but he said he would wait.” Stiles’ brow furrowed. He didn’t like when john’s were stalkerish, or possessive. It was a total turn off for him, and Allison knew it. Stiles chose his john’s carefully. This one he wanted to talk to personally before he let any paperwork be signed. 

“Send him away with my card. I’m not coming in until later today,” he replied. “Snap a picture of him before he leaves, though.”

“Sure thing,” Allison said before she hung up. Stiles messed around in his Google Docs, adding in a few notes to the doc he had of the john he had spent the previous night with. He completely lost track of time, jumping when the picture came through from Allison. The potential john was, in fact, handsome, albeit a bit broody. Stiles frowned at the picture, his face matching the john’s. 

He laughed at himself; it was the little things in life that amused him, apparently. He put his shoes on, grabbed his coat and scarf, then headed out the door, making sure to lock it and jiggle the handle twice before walking down the hallway towards the elevator. 

Living in New York City had its perks. For instance, Stiles loved that he didn’t need a car. He didn’t like driving with the streets so packed full of people, taxis driving haphazardly and dangerously. He liked that, no matter what the time, he could order in food. Actually, he liked the fact that he could order anything he wanted to be delivered. If he wanted to, he didn’t have to leave his apartment building. Some of his days off, he did exactly that. Being social was what he did for a living. Not all john’s just wanted a fuck. Some wanted a nice dinner, someone to talk to, or not go to the movies alone. Sure, most of the time it ended with Stiles on his knees, but then again that was his favorite part. He didn’t care for the faux dates where older women dangled him off their arms as if he were a pet; a young boy to show off. 

In a way, he was, but that didn’t deter him. 

It was his appeal and he knew it. He had a certain _look_ that he knew others craved. Men liked the shape of his mouth, the hollowness of his cheeks as he sucked them off, the feel of his ass tight in their grip. Women liked his pretty, although masculine, face. He had a few cougars on his list, mostly wanting to be seen with a young man, to be flirted with at a fine restaurant, for him to eat them out for an hour or so. 

Stiles licked his lips as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets. It was late fall and the wind was already biting as he walked down the street towards the subway. Deaton’s office was across town, closer to Stiles’ hotel room. 

It took Stiles three years, but he bought himself a penthouse to host his clients. It was the complete opposite of his actual apartment, decked out in fine leather couches, a king-sized bed, a fully stocked mini-fridge, and enough condoms and lube to last him a year stashed in the massive bathroom. His own apartment was small in comparison, excluding his shower. He shares his apartment with a subletter by the name of Isaac, but he rarely sees him due to their opposite schedules. Stiles was more of a night owl, for obvious reasons. Stiles thinks he has only seen Isaac a total of five times in the two months that he had been living with Stiles. 

Deaton’s waiting room always looked the same with its months old magazines with an address scratched out of the bottom, along with the most uncomfortable chairs known in existence. They always made Stiles squirm in his seat, never finding a position that was the least bit comfortable. The nurse always gave Stiles a look, but he only shrugged it off as she called his name, beckoning him to follow her into a room. He hopped up onto the examining table without a word, giving her a smile as he rolled up his shirt sleeve enough so she could take his blood pressure. She knew why he came in once every two weeks or so. She could judge him all she wanted, but Stiles saw her eyes raking over him. He watched the pump as it took his blood pressure, giving himself a small smile. 

“The doctor will be in to see you shortly,” she said before shutting the door, leaving him in the room alone. Stiles pulled out his phone, checking his messages once more. He wasn’t at all surprised to find an email from whom he assumed to be the john who had been loitering his and Allison’s office. It was the normal greeting, awkward and unsure, asking for an appointment. Stiles shot him a reply. 

He tended to meet potential new john’s on neutral ground somewhere, like a coffee shop or the park. Since it was cold out, Stiles opted for a Starbucks. He checked his calendar quickly, giving him a few options of meeting times to choose from. By the time he hit send, the door opened and Dr. Deaton walked in. 

“Good to see you again, Stiles,” he said with an easy smile. Stiles could never tell if he was being sincere or sarcastic, but he smiled back nonetheless. The doctor’s appointment itself never took long. Drop the pants, get checked over, get blood drawn, chat about being safe (and sometimes not), pay the front desk, stop by Starbucks to get a ‘you did good with the needles’ coffee, head to the office. 

Stiles’ office was close to the hotel, just a few blocks away. He mainly needed a place for him and Allison to meet up, somewhere to store paperwork and meet clients if need be. It was small, enough space for desks for himself and Allison and a couch. Stiles loved that couch, a lot. It was his napping couch, as well as his ‘meet the client’ couch. 

By the time he walked into the office, it was veering on 5pm. Allison was sitting at her desk, obviously on Facebook. She didn’t even try to pretend that she was working. Stiles shrugged off his coat, hanging it up on the hook behind the door, then handed her a coffee, which he bought her when he bought his own. 

“Awww, a ‘Stiles hates needles’ coffee! How sweet of you,” she teased as she took a sip, smiling up at him as she swung back and forth in her swivel chair. Stiles gave her a fake glare as he sat down at his desk, turning on his computer. 

“See if I get you a coffee next time,” Stiles mumbled as he typed in his password. 

“I mean, I am pretty sure I should be the one getting you coffees.”

“Semantics,” Stiles said, sticking out his tongue. He sighed as he opened his email. He turned to Allison, pointing at the fifteen he got from the time he was at Deaton’s until now. “What the fuck, Allison?”

Allison shrugged, taking another sip from her coffee. 

“Someone is Mister Popular.” 

Stiles groaned as he raked his fingers through his hair. He pulled up his calendar. 

“What have you already figured out without me?” He asked. Allison had access to his work email address, so that she could input dates and appointments into his calendar herself. Stiles would be running around with his head cut off without her, basically, and he knew it. 

“Well,” Allison started, pulling up the calendar herself. “I’ve cleared a few dates where there were cancellations, added in the client meeting that you started to set up this afternoon-”

“He responded already?” Stiles asked, clicking through his emails, trying to find a response. 

“Mmhm,” Allison said, typing away at something. Stiles’ eyes skimmed across the email. He was meeting this possible future client tomorrow. Stiles raked his teeth across his bottom lip as he read the email that Allison sent as him, stating that tomorrow would work for him. She even said what Stiles would be wearing. He gave her another glare.

“I hate the red shirt.”

“Too bad!” Allison said in a sing-song voice. “You look good in it. He’ll want to just eat you up.”

“I’m supposed to be eating _him up_ though.”

“I don’t know why I work for you,” Allison said with a roll of her eyes. “The things I know about you-”

“How about,” Stiles said as he swung around in his chair, slouching down in it as he looked at her, “we don’t discuss what we know and don’t know about each other’s sex lives?”

Allison grinned at him. 

“So last night Scott and I tried something new-”

“La La La!” Stiles shouted, sticking his fingers in his ears. “I can’t hear you talking about my best friend.”

“And he bought me this toy-”

“Oh my god,” Stiles groaned, turning around. “No.” 

“And holy shit, Stiles-”

“Stop, cease, desist,” Stiles begged in faux agony. He started laughing, his head thrown back and hands clenched at his stomach. “No, but what toy was this? Do I want one?”

“I think you might, actually,” Allison said honestly. 

For the evening, Stiles was booked for a meal with a middle-aged couple and then a rendezvous with them at his penthouse where the husband liked to watch as Stiles fucked his wife. They were a bimonthly gig that paid handsomely for his time, so he was willing to forego his usual hesitance at voyeurism. He’d rather have everyone in on the fun. 

But his job was to do what was asked of him. And he did it well. 

Stiles was barely in his office an hour before he left for the penthouse to change and get ready. The good thing about having a place in a hotel is the fact that they cleaned it as if it was just another room in said hotel. Fresh towels and sheets awaited him every time he walked in. Stiles didn’t need to do much in the way of getting ready. He shaved, which he hadn’t done earlier, brushed his teeth, then changed his clothes. The couple he was meeting always dined at five star restaurants that you needed to book reservations at months in advance. Stiles supposed it was to show him how rich they were, how he was a toy for the wife, a fun night out. Stiles didn’t care, though. He always ordered the most expensive wine on the list. 

They always ordered the bottle. 

Wining and dining was easy. Schmoozing was nothing. All smiles and smartly timed winks, a foot teasing slowly up a leg under the table, fingers grazing along a thigh. Stiles thought of it as foreplay. Foreplay to Stiles was the best part of sex. He liked licking, sucking, fingering, tasting. Everyone was different, had different buttons to push. Stiles excelled at finding those buttons. 

This would be Stiles’ fourth ‘date’ with this couple. Before heading out he reread their file, brushing up on Her likes and dislikes. Stiles raised an eyebrow. Apparently He enjoyed it the most when Stiles made eye contact with Him. Stiles would definitely have to remember that later, because this couple tended to tip well the more times Stiles made Her come. 

All in all, Stiles’ night was over by eleven. They paid by card, swiped with Stiles’ handy dandy iPad GoPayment processor. Voilá, money in the bank. Afterwards, Stiles laid in bed, covers thrown on top, head propped up on a pillow as the TV played in the background. He had showered, and was laying around naked as he played Candy Crush on his iPad. Eventually, he moved, gathering his things for the night. He took a candy bar from the mini-bar as he walked out. 

He dialed his father’s number as he headed towards the elevator, putting his headphones in as it rang. 

“I was hoping you would call,” his father’s voice said over the receiver. Stiles couldn’t help but smile. 

“Sorry it took me so long.”

“It’s alright, I know you are busy. Late night at the office?” His father asked. Stiles bit his lip as he tapped his foot against the tiled floor. 

“You could say that,” Stiles said with a sigh. He never had it in him to tell his dad what he did for a living. There just wasn’t really a way to tell a Sheriff that you grew up to be a escort, albeit a very well-paid one. “How is Miranda doing?” Stiles hated asking about his stepmother, but knew it made his father smile when he did. 

“She is doing well, started her new hours at the hospital. We are working the same shifts, so we can spend more time together.” 

“That sounds awesome, dad,” Stiles said as his shoulders slumped. His father met Miranda when he got shot while on duty a few years back, when Stiles was away at college. Why Stiles chose Columbia, he didn’t know. It meant being on the opposite side of the country from his father when he had almost died. Miranda had been his doctor. She had been the one to save his life as Stiles sat in his dorm crying because he didn’t have enough money to fly last minute across the country. “You deserve to be happy.”

“And so do you, son. Miranda and I worry about you. Have you met anyone new?” Stiles’ eyebrow quirked upwards as he shook his head, his fingers rubbing at an eye. 

“No, no one,” Stiles told him truthfully. “I mean, not in a relationship sense.” 

“You don’t have to explain to me,” his father laughed. “I was young once, before I met your mother.”

The conversation went silent at the mention of Stiles’ mother, who died his freshman year of high school. Stiles let out an audible sigh as the elevator dinged, the doors opening at the ground floor. 

“I love you,” his father told him. Stiles gave a small smile as he pulled his coat closer to himself. 

“I love you too, dad. I will try to call more often.”

“Don’t run yourself into the ground with work.”

“I won’t.”

By the time Stiles got home, it was barely midnight. Stiles took a quick shower, then pulled on a pair of sweats, an old t-shirt, and a Beacon Hills Sheriff’s Department sweatshirt that he had stolen from his father before he moved across the country. It was way too early to go to bed, so Stiles decided to watch something that he had DVR’d. He got a beer out of the fridge and made himself comfortable on the couch. He fell asleep with his beer in his lap, head tilted back against the couch cushion, mouth hanging open. The door to the apartment opening and closing woke him with a start, his eyes shooting open in surprise. 

“Whoa, sorry,” Isaac said as he shrugged off his coat. “You aren’t normally home.”

“It’s fine,” Stiles said as he wiped at his mouth. He looked at the clock on the microwave in the kitchen. It was one. “I got home a bit early, must have dozed off.” Stiles stood up, walking over to the sink to pour out his now warm beer. He hated warm beer. It reminded him of college when no one had enough money to buy good beer so they always ended up getting drunk on Miller Lite, or something equally as gross. “You’re out late,” Stiles pointed out as he raked his fingers through his hair as he leaned against the kitchen counter. 

“Had drinks with some friends, I’m going to regret it when I have to be up in five hours though,” Isaac said with a smile as he walked into his room. “Night.”

“Night,” Stiles called out after Isaac’s door was already shut. Stiles took a deep breath before he pushed himself away from the counter. He locked the door, turned off the TV and all the lights, then headed to bed. Stiles never fell asleep easily. He curled up underneath the sheets, his iPad making his room glow in a cool light as he read until he fell asleep two hours later. 

The next day, he showed up at the coffee shop fifteen minutes early, ordering himself a venti. He wore the red dress shirt, just like Allison told him to, along with grey slacks and a tie. His jacket was folded over the back of his seat, his sleeves rolled up and legs crossed as he sat waiting, sipping at his coffee as his eyes scanned Google Calendar for the rest of his day’s appointments. He had dinner with Scott and Allison planned, then an appointment set at nine with a client whose paperwork had just gone through a few days ago. 

Someone cleared his throat, causing Stiles to look up. The man whose picture Allison had sent to Stiles stood above him with a cool smile across his lips. 

“You look... stunning,” the man said with ease. Stiles stood up to shake his hand. 

“Nice to meet you, Deucalion?” Stiles asked, in case he had said the name incorrectly. His potential client nodded at the pronounciation, his thumb stroking the back of Stiles’ hand before he released it. Stiles sat back down, straightening his tie before motioning for Deucalion to join him. Stiles put his hands in his lap, head tilting to one side as he looked Deucalion over. He had a number of johns just like him. Stiles looked to Deucalion’s left hand, noting that he didn’t have a wedding ring on. Most clients were married, looking for an escape for a short time, or someone to be rougher with, someone that would do the things that their significant other wouldn’t. 

There was something about the fact that others trusted Stiles with their kinks and the fact that they didn’t trust anyone else with them that made everything worth it. Stiles appraised Deucalion for a moment, wondering what exactly was going to be asked of him this time. 

“Your assistant tells me that you have experience with BDSM,” Deucalion starts. Stiles smirks, his head nodding only once. 

“With both being a Dom and a Sub,” Stiles states as he sips his coffee. “Which role are you looking for me to fulfill for you?” 

“Sub,” he responds immediately. Stiles closes his eyes momentarily, imagining himself under Deucalion, collared, hands bound behind his back. 

“That can be arranged,” he said easily. “Allison can write up a contract. How often were you thinking, monthly, bimonthly?” Stiles asked as he pulled his iPad out of his bag. 

“Weekly.” Stiles’ eyebrows arched upwards in surprise as his fingers slid across his calendar. 

“That may be a problem, but let me see.” He hadn’t been expecting that. “Are evenings the only time you are available?” His evenings were what always filled up the fastest. 

“Actually, mid-morning to early afternoon would work best for me.” That certainly was doable. Stiles scanned his calendar quickly. He knew from experience what Deucalion was going to be like in bed: fierce, unrepentant, unyielding. He needed to make sure he had a day to recover afterwards. 

“Do Tuesdays at noon work for you?” Stiles asked. He almost always took Wednesdays off. 

“They do.”

“We can pencil you in for Tuesdays, then. Tell me more about what you want from me, and then we can discuss testing, safety, and our meeting place.” 

The meeting itself lasted almost an hour. Stiles gave Deucalion one of Deaton’s cards for a referral. He made it known that there would be no appointment with him until the paperwork came in, but that his Tuesdays at noon would remain blocked out for him. They decided that Stiles’ hotel suite would work for what Deucalion was looking for. It wasn’t uncommon for Doms to want to be in their own spaces, but he was open to Stiles’. They discussed payment, deciding on cash. Stiles didn’t mind cash, although getting over a thousand dollars all at once was a bit cumbersome. He asked for larger bills, to make it easier. 

On the way to his office, Stiles stopped and picked up a late lunch for himself and Allison. When he got to the office, he was greeted by his best friend. 

“Scotty! I wasn’t expecting you,” Stiles said as he put down his and Allison’s lunches in order to wrap his arms around Scott, who did the same to him. “I would have brought you a sandwich, too.” 

“I’ll just eat half of yours,” Scott teased. “I just stopped by to say that tonight is about celebration!” Scott clapped his hands together, looking at Stiles expectantly. Stiles rolled his eyes then turned to his desk to drum roll. Once Scott was fully satisfied with Stiles’ drum rolling skills, he pat Stiles’ back. 

“I got the job! I am officially quitting that shit show and moving on up to the world of marketing!” Stiles beamed as Allison screamed, clapping her hands as she stood up in order to give Scott a hug and a kiss. “I get my own office and everything.” 

“I am so getting you a desk plant,” Stiles joked. 

“I don’t want a desk plant,” Scott said seriously.

“Then I’m buying you some scotch to keep in the bottom drawer of your desk for when I visit.” 

“That sounds more like it,” Scott said as he put an arm around Allison. “So I made reservations tonight at seven, since Allison told me you had an appointment at nine.” 

“Perfect,” Stiles said as he sat down to dig into his lunch. He was starving. “I’ll be there.” Before Scott left, though, he took a bite out of Stiles’ sandwich. 

“So,” Allison said as she unwrapped hers. “How’d it go?” 

“I need you to write up a BDSM contract for me,” Stiles said as he chewed, then swallowed. He wiped at his mouth with his thumb, then licked it. Allison didn’t look pleased. 

“Last time that didn’t go well,” she pointed out. Stiles shrugged his shoulders. 

“Maybe we should assess the contract or hire a security guard for the night, just in case.” 

“Hmm,” Allison said as she used her mouse to click around her computer as she held her sandwich with the other hand. “Boyd does private security.” Stiles blanched. 

“I am not having Boyd around while I am on all fours, tied down, or collared or-- no. Just no.” 

Allison laughed openly, twisting in her chair. 

“Well, I guess I have my afternoon cut out for me.” 

“Also block out Tuesdays at noon for me for the foreseeable future.” 

“Noon? Really?” Allison asked, clearly judging the timing. “Did he mention what he wanted?” 

“Rough play,” Stiles said after swallowing a bite of his sandwich. He walked over to their mini-fridge, grabbing a bottle of water for himself. He offered it to Allison first, before taking a sip. 

“You have a Tuesday evening...”

“Yeah, well...” Stiles said as he sat down, brow furrowed. “But that is dinner, fully clothed, and all about me servicing them. They like toys,” Stiles pointed out. “It will be fine,” he assured her. “If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. I will drop them if they are too rough,” he said with a shrug. It was as simple as that, really. It would take at least a week for Deucalion to see Deaton, then a few weeks for the results to come back. He had time, and even then he could always refuse the client. But he was at least willing to give him one appointment. 

After finishing his sandwich, Stiles took a nap on his couch. He fell asleep to the sound of Allison typing. She shook him awake at five by pinching his nose. Stiles swatted at her as he groaned. 

“No,” he mumbled. 

“Yes, let’s lock up. Shower then meet me at the restaurant. I sent you an email with the address to give the cabbie.”

“You’re amazing,” Stiles said as he sat up, yawning. He gathered his things then waited as Allison locked the door, hailing a cab for her before walking himself to the subway. He had time for a quick shower. He dressed for his appointment, ridding himself of the red button up, going for a more relaxing dress shirt and cardigan combo. 

As he walked out of his room, he noticed that Isaac and a friend were watching TV in the living room. 

“You look snazzy,” the guest said. 

“Thanks,” Stiles said as he grabbed his coat from the rack by the door.

“This is Cora,” Isaac said by way of introduction. “She lives next door.” Stiles smiled at her. 

“Nice to meet you, Cora.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” she practically purred as she gave him a once over. Isaac rolled his eyes as Stiles wrapped a scarf around his neck, one eyebrow cocked. 

“I’m going to dinner... my best friend got a job promotion.” 

“Tell him I said congrats,” Isaac said out of politeness. Stiles nodded as he grabbed the doorknob. Maybe he should try to include Isaac more, ask him to do things with him. But not tonight; tonight was about Scott. 

“Will do,” Stiles said as he walked out the door. 

Stiles arrived at the restaurant five minutes late and was ushered straight to a table, as his coat was taken from him, where he found himself faced with not only Scott and Allison, but also Boyd and Erica, two mutual acquaintances. 

“Boyd, Erica,” Stiles said with a smile. Before sitting down he kissed Erica on the cheek, then patted Boyd on the back. “Wasn’t expecting to see you two here.” 

“When I called Boyd’s work looking for the security detail I told him about Scott’s promotion and told him to bring Erica,” Allison said as Stiles took his seat. They ordered drinks to start with, Stiles got his Jack and Coke, which he nursed until their food arrived. With dinner he had a glass of wine, cutting himself off with just the one. The last thing he wanted was to show up to an appointment smelling of alcohol. 

“How is the business going, Stiles?” Erica asked, mid-sip for Stiles. Stiles choked a bit, holding his hand to his chest. He looked to Allison to cover for him. 

“It’s going well, pretty much booked solid. Stiles is an amazing consultant.” 

Stiles grinned at her, winking. 

“Thanks, Allison.”

“Are you taking referrals?” Erica asked. “Because I have a friend who needs to get laid, like, yesterday.” Stiles coughed, shaking his head. He really shouldn’t have taken that bite. Erica always gave him cheek. “What?” She teased, rubbing his back. “I heard you’re pretty good.” 

“Oh, I am,” Stiles assured her. “But I think my plate is currently full,” he joked, pointing down at his empty plate. “Besides, that would be weird.” Erica shrugged nonchalantly. 

“Fine with me,” she said as she took another sip of her wine. 

It wasn’t that Stiles was surprised whenever friends of his who knew what he did tried to set him up with appointments of acquaintances, it was more that they never seemed to stop doing it. One would think that the fact that he fucked for money would be the white elephant in the room, that no one would mention it, but no. It was brought up all the time, as if it was nothing. He should feel at ease, knowing his friends didn’t care what he was doing with his life, that they were okay with it, but he wasn’t. Something just felt off about it, like Erica’s insistence about this so called friend of hers who needed a lay. 

It always felt as though she was trying to set him up on a date, rather than to fill his calendar with another appointment. That was where he felt off with the entire situation because Stiles didn’t do relationships. He didn’t fuck people and have feelings for them, he never did. He tried dating in high school and in college but it wasn’t for him. Dates where you held hands, took walks, snuggled and cuddled after sex just wasn’t for him. He didn’t even like kissing that much, if he was being completely honest with himself. It was a means to an end, a build up to sex that wasn’t a blowjob and most certainly wasn’t rimming. He’d rather lick someone until they screamed than play tonsil hockey with them.

“This was fun,” Stiles said as he finished his glass of wine. “But I have to get to my nine o’clock.” He shook Boyd’s hand, kissed both Erica and Allison’s cheeks, then hugged Scott. “Congrats, man.” 

“Thanks, bro,” Scott said as he sat back down after their hug. “We need to hang out sometime!”

“Have Allison block off some bro time!” Stiles called over his shoulder. He checked the time on his phone, realizing he didn’t have much time before nine. 

He made it to the suite ten minutes before his appointment was due. He hung up his coat and scarf, then practically ran into the bathroom to brush his teeth. As he gargled mouthwash he opened a bottle of wine to let it breathe, in case the john wanted a glass. Stiles even thought about pouring himself a glass. This john was someone whom he had been looking forward to finally having an appointment with. 

His initial meeting with him had been awkward, but in a way that Stiles found rather endearing. It was obvious the guy knew exactly what he wanted, but had been embarrassed to talk about it. As if Stiles would turn him down. Sometimes johns came to Stiles with out of the norm requests, like Deucalion. Stiles was not a BDSM escort, but he had done it in the past and had no problem with being a Dom or a Sub to someone. But this john asked for something rarer for Stiles. 

As an escort, usually come play was out of the question. Barebacking was dangerous, even while in a relationship. The guy had a kink, and Stiles could tell that he wasn’t getting off with whoever they were currently with, if anyone. Something about him piqued Stiles’ interest. It could have been his surly face set in a pout, or the size of his muscles that could be seen through his shirt easily, or the unique color of his eyes. Whatever it was, it got Stiles to agree.  
They set the terms and the price. The paperwork all came through clear, everything was a go. 

And now Stiles had to wait for him to arrive. It was almost five past when there was a knock at the door. Stiles answered it like he always did: barefoot. There was something about being dressed up, sans shoes and socks, that made him feel more comfortable. 

“Mr. Hale,” Stiles greeted with a smile. He got a brief nod in response as he opened the door wider to invite him in. “Would you like a glass of wine?” Stiles offered. He was met with silence, so he walked over to the counter where it was breathing, holding up a glass to Mr. Hale. 

“Sure.” It was a curt response, but Stiles didn’t take it personally. He poured the glass, offering it to Mr. Hale. 

“Would you like me to call you Mr. Hale, or do you prefer something else?” Stiles asked in an attempt to break the tension he felt rising in the room. He was used to new clients being uncomfortable with how to get things started. 

“Derek is fine,” he replied. “What... what should I call you?” 

“You can call me whatever you want,” Stiles said warmly. “But I prefer ‘Stiles’.” 

“Okay,” Derek said with a gulp. Stiles poured himself a small glass, ushering them to the couch. 

“Did you find the penthouse alright?” Stiles asked, trying to break down Derek’s walls a bit. It was always easier to segue into sex if they talked a bit beforehand, reminding the client what they had negotiated, what they were getting. It always seemed to set the mood.

Stiles sat down after Derek, close to him, with a knee up on the couch. He was practically in Derek’s lap, with a hand near Derek’s shoulder, a finger trailing across his shirt. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and dark jeans. Stiles’ eyes honed in on Derek’s lips as he licked them before taking a sip of wine as he nodded his head. 

“The directions that were given worked.” 

“Good,” Stiles said with a smile. He set his untouched glass down on the coffee table. He wanted use of both his hands. “I know we discussed terms at our previous meeting,” he started to say as his hand slid across the expanse of Derek’s shoulders, fingers catching for only a moment on the nape of Derek’s neck, his lips brushing against Derek’s ear. “But I want everything out on the table before we start.” Stiles placed his free hand on Derek’s thigh, palm rubbing lightly up and down. 

“Okay,” Derek rasped, clearing his throat afterwards, watching Stiles’ hand move with rapt attention. Stiles didn’t hide his smirk, instead he nipped Derek’s ear, then kissed it as his hand slid further up Derek’s thigh. Derek spread his legs in response. With eyes lidded, Stiles breathed him in. 

“You want to use my mouth,” Stiles began, his thumb rubbing across Derek’s crotch, “you want to hold me still as you fuck it, you want to come on me.” Derek groaned, his eyes closing, his mouth open, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed. Stiles licked up his neck, his hand gliding away from Derek’s crotch to his wine glass. Fluidly, Stiles took it from him and set it down on the coffee table, then straddled Derek. Stiles cupped Derek’s face in his hands as Derek grabbed him by the hips. Stiles pressed a thumb against Derek’s lips, letting out a short gasp when Derek’s mouth opened for him, sucking in his thumb greedily. Stiles rolled his hips down, grinding himself against Derek. “Is that what you want?” Stiles asked him as he bent forward, taking his thumb out of Derek’s mouth in order to hover his own lips over Derek’s, teasing him. 

“Yes,” Derek replied. Stiles kissed him then. Derek’s hands immediately slid down and back, cupping Stiles’ ass. Stiles groaned into the kiss, tugging on Derek’s hair. He couldn’t help but register the groan of pleasure that escaped from Derek’s lips as he did it. Just for good measure, Stiles did it again. Derek bucked his hips upwards, showing Stiles just how hard he was already. “I want your mouth,” Derek growled. 

Stiles bit down on Derek’s lip, tugging it as he ended the kiss. Derek’s grip on his ass hadn’t let up, and he had a finger pressed against his hole, right through the fabric. Stiles pushed back, raking his teeth across his bottom lip. 

“You wanted to hold me down, right?” Stiles asked, feigning being coy as he got off of Derek. He took hold of Derek’s hand, guiding him over to the king-sized bed. Stiles stood in front of him, taking his time unbuttoning Derek’s shirt and discarding it. He appraised Derek’s muscled form, his fingers grazing over a nipple before kissing Derek again, opening his mouth for him. Derek moved, his hands cupping Stiles’ face to deepen the kiss further. Stiles tugged on Derek’s belt, then, flinging it across the room as Derek backed Stiles up against the bed. He bent his knees, falling until he sat on the bed, his fingers deftly ridding Derek of his pants, shoving them down his thighs. Stiles looked up at him, his mouth hanging open slightly, to take a look at his face. 

Derek already looked blissed out, his fingers raking through Stiles’ hair as Stiles leaned forward, mouthing at the fabric of Derek’s boxer briefs, outlining Derek’s erection with his tongue. Stiles grinned against him as his fingers hooked around the fabric, inching it down just enough to reveal the head of Derek’s uncut cock. Stiles’ mouth watered at the sight, his tongue darting out to lick at it. He pushed the fabric down Derek’s thighs, his fingers wrapping around the shaft, stroking it. He watched the head of Derek’s cock appear only to disappear seconds later. On a downward stroke, Stiles put his mouth around Derek’s cock as he cupped Derek’s balls with his other hand. 

With a snap of his hips, Derek slid himself down Stiles’ throat. Stiles pulled back, gasping for air as he looked up at Derek. Without a word, Stiles went back down, taking Derek into his mouth again, opening his throat for him. Derek’s grip on Stiles’ hair tightened as he started fucking into Stiles’ mouth. Stiles’ hands dropped to Derek’s thighs, holding on as his eyes began to water. This was what Derek wanted, this is what got him off. Stiles tried to breath in through his nose, but Derek’s pistoning hips were too much. Stiles tapped Derek’s thighs, asking for air. Derek obliged him. 

Stiles coughed, sucking in as much air as he could as spit and precome slid down his chin. He wiped at his mouth all the while continuing to jack Derek off. 

“Thought you wanted to pin me down,” Stiles said through heavy-lidded eyes as he looked up at Derek. He stuck his tongue out to lick up Derek’s shaft, but at the last moment Derek yanked Stiles’ head back, pulling him away from his erection. Stiles moaned open-mouthed as Derek stepped further away from him. His grip on Derek’s erection slipped away as well, leaving him on the bed alone. 

“On your back, then, head facing this way.” Stiles practically jumped onto the bed, still fully clothed. “Take your shirt off,” Derek demanded as he started jacking himself off. Stiles complied, tossing the cardigan first, then unbuttoning his collared shirt with quick, nimble fingers. He was hard, almost achingly so, but did nothing to relieve himself. This was about the client, it always was. This was no different. 

Stiles made himself comfortable, giving enough room so that his hands could grip the edge of the bed, he gave Derek a look, then opened his mouth. Derek crawled onto the bed, knees on either side of Stiles’ shoulders. 

“You ready?” Derek asked as he looked down at Stiles. Stiles nodded his head, extending his neck just a bit so that he could lick at the head of Derek’s cock playfully. 

“Fuck my mouth,” Stiles pleaded as he pressed his head against the mattress, getting a good angle for Derek’s cock to slide down his throat. Stiles breathed in through his mouth, before Derek’s cock was there, filling him. He relaxed his throat, not letting himself choke on him. Derek’s hands were on Stiles’ body, holding him in place as he began to move. Stiles’ hands moved to wrap around Derek’s thighs, fingernails digging into the flesh as his pace quickened. 

Stiles tapped out when he needed to breathe. Derek only let him breathe in once before plummeting back in. Stiles arched his body upwards as spit poured out of his mouth with each gasp of air that was allowed to him. Tears were streaming from his eyes as Derek fucked his mouth relentlessly. 

“God you feel so good,” Derek preened as his palm rest against Stiles’ throat so he could feel the movement of his cock sliding up and down Stiles’ throat. “Your mouth is so fucking perfect.” Stiles raked his fingernails up Derek’s thighs as he spread his own legs further apart. The pressure in his groin was becoming unbearable, he needed release. “You’re doing so good.” 

Stiles dug his toes into the bed, pushing at Derek’s thighs. He sputtered for breath as Derek backed away enough for him to get air, his cock dangling inches from his mouth, dripping wet with spit and precome. Stiles coughed, his chest heaving from the lack of air. He was sure that Derek was going to fuck his face more, but he was surprised when, instead, Derek took hold of his erection and began stroking himself. “Going to come on you,” he rasped. Stiles licked his lips, closing his eyes as he ran his fingers up and down Derek’s hairy thighs, his nails catching every so often. 

“I want that, come on Derek,” he pleaded. Hot, sticky come shot across his face, catching on his lips and nose. Stiles could feel it dripping down his chin, his lips parting as Derek spasmed above him, moaning his name. He let Derek ride his high, his finger smearing come across Stiles’ cheek. Stiles turned his head enough to catch Derek’s index finger, tasting him. He moaned, his own hand sliding down his chest as he took Derek’s finger further into his own mouth, his tongue swirling around it. Stiles cupped himself through the fabric of his pants. He could feel the dampness of his precome. He soaked through his briefs completely. 

Derek’s eyes flickered to Stiles’ apparent erection. Without another word, Stiles released Derek’s finger, then sat up. That was not part of the deal, not tonight. Derek paid for a blowjob and a facial. No matter how hungry his eyes looked for a taste of Stiles, he wouldn’t break protocol. He would need to schedule another appointment if he wanted something else. 

Stiles walked into the massive bathroom, grabbing a washcloth to clean himself off with. He grabbed himself a plain white t-shirt to put on, always finding it easier to end the night clothed, to let the john know the evening was over. When Stiles walked back out into the room, Derek was almost fully dressed again. Stiles grabbed his iPad and his glass of wine, taking a sip of it. It tasted weird after having come in his mouth, but he ignored it. 

Derek walked up to him, his face flushed from either their escapades or a sign of remorse for what he had just done. Either way, it wasn’t Stiles’ business. He handed Derek the iPad with the GoPayment app open, showing how much Derek owed him. 

“If you liked that, be sure to call my assistant to make another appointment.” It was always awkward, the first time afterwards and Derek was no exception. He handed Stiles a card, which he swiped then handed back. Derek signed the receipt electronically. Stiles then sent it to Derek’s email address, which he had stored via Allison. 

“Can’t we just make one now?” Derek asked him. Stiles’ lip quirked upwards slightly, pleased. He nodded his head, pulling up his Google Calendar. 

“Of course we can,” he said congenially. He tapped around, finding a free evening. “Is this time good for you? Or-”

“I can do earlier. I work early in the mornings, until around three usually.” Stiles nodded, searching. 

“How soon?” Stiles asked. 

“How soon are you available?” Stiles’ cock twitched in his pants. He bit his lip to keep from moaning. Derek didn’t seem to notice, though, which was good. 

“I am booked this week,” Stiles mumbled as he quickly searched into early the following week. Derek stepped nearer, looking over Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles leaned back against him, just because it felt good. Derek radiated heat, and Stiles always got cold after sex, even though his own erection was throbbing and on fire. 

“Why not there?” Derek asked, pointing at a three-thirty spot the next Thursday. Stiles tapped it, then filled it in with Derek’s name. 

“You have me for two hours,” Stiles said, catching Derek’s gaze with his own. “What do you want to fill it with?” It was Derek’s turn to grin.

“Do I have time to think about it?” He asked. Stiles was busy staring at Derek’s lips, but he nodded nonetheless. 

“Email me any time this week and we can discuss what you want,” he said, shaking his own head slightly, breaking himself of his trance. Derek chuckled to himself, his hand grazing across Stiles’ back as he walked towards the entrance. Stiles put his iPad down, then rushed to join Derek to let him out. 

“Next time, I am touching you,” Derek stated, his eyes flicking up and down Stiles’ body. 

“Sounds fun,” Stiles admitted aloud. Derek and he shared a look, and then he was gone, walking down the hallway towards the elevator. Stiles shut the door, leaning against it for a moment before stripping off his clothes and getting into the shower where he jacked off, coming with two fingers in his ass, his forehead pressed up against the tiles of the shower as he panted. 

He ended up balling his underwear up and shoving it into his coat pocket, going commando instead of wearing wet briefs on the subway. When he got home, he took two ibuprofen for his jaw, brushed his teeth, then crawled into bed even though it wasn’t even midnight. Before he went to bed, he saw that he already had an email waiting for him from Derek. With a smile, he shut off his iPad and went to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**From:** hale.derek@gmail.com  
 **To:** stilinski.consults@gmail.com  
 **Date:** Tue, Oct 6, 2013 12:13 AM  
 **Subject:** Re: Next Thursday

I have decided what I want for our session next Thursday. I want to be able to touch you. I want to finger you, to take my time. I want to lick your ass, to eat you out. I want to make you come on me. 

Will this be possible? 

-D.H.

Derek sat staring at his computer for a long time after he sent the email. He hadn’t known what to say, really. All he knew was what he wanted. He was denied touching Stiles, which bothered him a lot more than he would like to acknowledge. Derek knew he probably wouldn’t respond until tomorrow sometime, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t hit refresh on his browser more than once before closing his laptop. 

He was already in bed, the light of the laptop had been all that allowed him to see and now that it was closed Derek let darkness engulf him. He pushed his laptop aside then slid down so that he was laying on his back. Derek brushed his hands over his face, groaning in frustration. He was paying money, a lot of money to fuck somebody. Nervous wasn’t the right word for how he had felt when he had come to Stiles’ door earlier. Apprehensive, maybe. 

Apprehension to sleeping with an escort was to be expected, Derek surmised. It was normal to have second thoughts about doing it. But that wasn’t what made Derek take a step back before he made his final decision to take the plunge. It was the fact that he had finally decided that he deserved something. He deserved to get off, to feel the bliss of orgasm brought on by someone else’s touch. He had denied himself for too long. 

Now he just wanted more; he needed more. Only, he had to wait until next Thursday, and it had to be approved beforehand. Derek was okay with this, more than okay. If anything, he wanted it this way. No emotions, no attachment. It is just sex, a way to get off. It had felt good, using Stiles’ mouth, coming on his face. He had needed release and he definitely got what he had paid for. Derek looked at the clock on his bedside table, glaring at the time. He had to be up in less than four hours. Hopefully he wouldn’t regret his late night in the morning. 

Derek tended to always wake up approximately three to seven minutes before his alarm went off. He supposed it was because he hated the sound of the incessant beeping. He had been doing it since high school. He almost never heard the actual alarm anymore, but he still set it every night anyway, just in case. 

His eyes opened at 4:57, three minutes before his alarm was due to go off. He sighed, rubbing at his eyes as he forced himself out of bed. Derek was not a morning person. Being a personal trainer meant early mornings, though. His first training session was at six, which didn’t leave him with much time to get ready but he refused to get up any earlier than five. 

First, Derek used the bathroom then washed his hands. Then, it was one hundred push-ups, one-handed. Fifty on one hand, and fifty on the other. Then he did one hundred crunches just to get his blood pumping. His normal workout he did after he was done training for the day. To him, he and Stiles had a lot in common, only he was paid to train people and get them in better shape. He spent an hour with each scheduled person, taking them from machine to machine while telling them to push themselves harder, that they could do more and do it better. 

He had four appointments, his first two at the same gym, but the third and fourth were at separate locations. His circuit took him to a total of seven gyms around Midtown and Uptown but he rarely visited more than three a day, and never had more than six sessions scheduled per day. 

After his day’s sessions were over, he worked out for two or more hours, mostly lifting weights. It let him clear his mind, concentrating only on counting. Counting numbers of reps, sets, and rest time. He thought about the free weights he wanted to use, in what order, about anything that had to do with training and nothing that had to do with his real life. Lifting was his escapism from the things he didn’t want to think about. 

Every morning Derek had eggs. Six egg whites, with two yolks. It was a good source of protein with zero carbohydrates, which was good for body building. He liked his scrambled, but sometimes he did them over easy. Derek had just sat down on his barstool when his phone pinged, letting him know that he got an email. He would be lying to himself if he said that he didn’t look immediately. Derek’s shoulders slumped when he saw that it was a spam email from Barnes & Noble which was offering him 40% off on his next purchase. He grumbled to himself as he deleted it. 

Derek’s day passed by slowly. He checked his phone whenever he could, waiting for a reply. He didn’t get one until two, and it made him grin. 

**From:** stilinski.consults@gmail.com  
 **To:** hale.derek@gmail.com   
**Date:** Tue, Oct 6, 2013 2:05 PM  
 **Subject:** Re: Next Thursday

D.H.-

These scenarios are definitely on the table for our next session. Looking forward to it.

S.S. 

It was short, but the affirmation that Derek would be getting off by getting Stiles off, and that alone, had him palming himself through the thin fabric of his shorts where he sat in the staff room of the gym he was currently at. He was waiting on his last session for the day and they weren’t due to arrive until 2:30. Derek rolled his eyes as he looked up at the ceiling. Should he chance it, going into the bathroom in the gym he was a trainer at just to jack off? The thought of Stiles maybe sitting there and smirking as he wrote his response had Derek hardening with each second that passed by. 

Derek ran his hands over his face, groaning out loud. He had time. He could come quickly. The mere thought of jacking off thinking about Stiles writhing beneath his touch had Derek bolting out of his chair and making his way to the staff bathrooms, which were singles with locks on them. The chances of someone needing to use the restroom were slim to none, so Derek didn’t think again about the ‘should he or shouldn’t he’ as he locked the door and leaned against it, shoving his track shorts down so that they fell around his ankles. His cock was hard as he gripped it in his fist, his head thrown back and eyes closed as he stroked. He knocked his head against the door as he bit his lip thinking about everything he was going to do to Stiles come next Thursday. With his other hand, Derek tugged on his balls, massaging them slowly as he leisurely jacked off. 

It took him a moment to remember that he didn’t have the time to take it slow, to make it last. He had a session starting soon and he didn’t want to cut it too close. Derek’s pace quickened as he thought about Stiles’ tight throat the night before as he fucked it, about the sounds Stiles had made as he gagged on Derek’s cock. 

Derek let out a choked sob as precome dripped from his head. His thumb smeared it around so that he could use it as lube. The slide of his foreskin helped, but the precome helped even more. He let out a low moan as he thought about Stiles laying on his back, of him licking up Stiles’ length and taking Stiles into his mouth. Derek rolled his hips against his own palm as his balls tightened. He was close, so close. 

“Ah, fuck,” Derek gasped as he came much sooner than he thought he was going to. It felt like a rush, the sudden drop after an orgasm. He rested his head against the door, looking down at the mess that covered his hand and forearm. He thought about his come covering Stiles’ face the night before and closed his eyes. He wondered for a moment what Stiles would taste like. He should have asked for that, to have Stiles come in his mouth. 

He would have to remember that for their next appointment. 

Derek pulled his shorts up, then took his time washing himself off, using extra soap. He had time afterward and bought something to drink out of the vending machine so he would have something to do with his hands. 

On Tuesdays after work, Derek always headed to Chelsea where his older sister, Laura, lived. She owned a bakery there but actually had an apartment in the Meatpacking District. Once his last session was over and he had worked all his pent-up energy out, he showered then made his way to Chelsea. Bakers Delight was barely a year old but was already turning a profit. When Derek walked in, it was packed, with a line near the door. He smiled to himself, happy for his sister. 

“Der!” He heard his younger sister, Cora, call out from where she was seated at a couch in the corner of the shop. She had her books spread out across the coffee table, along with her laptop. 

“Cor,” Derek said as he walked over to her. She made room for him, shoving some of her things into her backpack. “You’re here early.” Cora shrugged as she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“I may have skipped my English class today...” Derek sighed, rolling his eyes. “Don’t give me that shit, I have worked my ass off all semester. We have a paper due next week, instead of going to class I actually, you know, was working on said paper,” she said as she gestured to her laptop that had a Word document open with its cursor blinking annoyingly at Derek. 

“Well, I guess that is fine,” he said with a smile. “Now I have someone to bug while I wait for Laura to get off.” 

“What are you guys making tonight?” Cora asked. 

“I think,” Derek said while he tried to remember what he and Laura had decided on making together for family dinner night, “Spicy grilled tilapia with aioli with zucchini and squash.” 

“Oh, fancy,” Cora said as she sat up. “I love aioli.” 

“I know you do,” Derek remarked as he looked down at his hands. Every Tuesday he and Laura made dinner together. It reminded him about their old family dinners back in California. Back then it had always been on Sunday nights. Everyone had been expected to be at home by six sharp, cleaned up and dressed appropriately. No athletic wear, no cut off jeans, and definitely no hats. Derek grew up helping his father in the kitchen. He had gone to culinary school but had dropped out before finishing. He just couldn’t handle it after everything that happened. Losing almost your entire family tended to scar certain things, and for Derek it was cooking professionally. It reminded him too much of his father, who had been a sous-chef. But for his family, Derek would still cook. He rarely cooked during the week, just for himself. Only on Tuesdays. Tuesdays were for family. 

While Cora and he waited for Laura to get off, he messed around on his phone, playing Scramble With Friends with his friend Boyd. They played a couple of rounds before Laura caught his attention. Her hair was up in a messy bun, with flour interlaced in it from pushing her hair out of the way all day. 

“Ready, kids?” Laura asked with her hands on her hips. Derek and Cora both rolled their eyes at the same time as they got up. Cora took a moment to gather all of her things before they took off. Laura’s apartment faced the Hudson River. She had a nice, quiet place with a large kitchen that always smelled like cookies. “We’ve still got an hour before Peter arrives,” Laura said as she headed into her room to shower and change clothes. 

Cora went straight to the TV, turning it on and making herself comfortable. She lived in Greenwich Village with two of her friends who also attended NYU, sharing a two-bedroom apartment. Derek hadn’t visited it yet, but that was because Cora insisted that one of her roommates liked him, and the last thing he wanted was for her roommate to come onto him. He had promised her that he would pay her a visit soon, though. Most of the time they just saw each other on Tuesdays, but sometimes they met up at a bar or a restaurant during the week. 

Derek joined Cora on the couch, not paying attention to whatever channel she had decided to watch. It was some reality show that he had no interest in, so his mind wandered to the night before. He must have zoned out because before he knew it, her hand was waving in front of his face. He swatted it away. 

“So, who is it?” Cora asked with a sly smile. 

“Who is what?” Derek asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Who did you meet? Who are you thinking about?” Derek scoffed. He hadn’t met anyone, not like how Cora was implying. 

“No one-”

“Bullshit,” Cora said, poking him in the shoulder as Laura walked back into the room, freshly showered.

“What is bullshit?” She inquired as she made her way into the kitchen. “And Der, get your ass in here. I need you to ready the tilapia.” Derek got up, shoving Cora playfully. She fell over, sticking her tongue out at him as well as her leg in order to try and trip him. He dodged it easily, though, giving her a fake glare as he walked towards the kitchen to wash his hands.

“Derek met someone,” Cora cooed.

“Did not,” Derek mumbled. 

“Oh, really? Do tell baby bro, do tell.” 

“I said I didn’t meet anyone,” Derek insisted as he dried his hands. Both Laura and Cora looked at him expectantly. “I am not looking for anything right now, you know that.” 

“Just because you aren’t looking for something doesn’t mean it won’t fall into your lap,” Laura said. 

“Or onto your dick,” Cora added in with a smirk. Derek scowled at her. “What? It’s true.” 

“I haven’t met anybody.”

“Okay, touchy,” Laura said, ending the topic of conversation. “So I guess that means the fact that the new guy at the bakery asking for your number would be a big ‘no, Laura’.”

“Correct,” Derek told her. 

“You know,” Cora attempted at being soothing. Derek clenched his jaw as he closed his eyes. He really didn’t want to have this conversation with his sisters right now. “Moving on may be best...”

“I _am_ moving on,” Derek hissed. “This is me moving on. I don’t need to sleep with someone to move on from her, okay? End of discussion.” Derek slammed the knife against the cutting board, making Laura jump slightly. “I don’t want to talk about Jen right now.” 

“Okay,” Cora said, slumping down against the couch. “Not talking about it.” Derek took a deep breath as Laura’s hand patted his lower back. 

“Let’s make dinner,” Laura told him as she rested her head on his shoulder. Derek nodded, sniffing absently. “Cora, put on something that isn’t shitty reality TV please,” Laura said. “I can’t take it!” 

Peter showed up as Cora was setting the table. He lived in Tribeca, Lower Manhattan, but worked in Midtown so he was never early for family dinner. Derek’s job was done, so he was in charge of the TV. Peter’s presence, as always, filled the room with constant conversation. Derek wasn’t big on small talk conversation, and his mood had gone sour with the mention of Jennifer. 

His heart ached where she used to be. Their relationship had been built on tragedy in both of their lives, clinging to each other in a time of need. It was unstable at the best of times, with both of them being emotionally compromised. Jennifer hadn’t been able to handle everything that had happened in her past, in the end. Her doctors thought that them being together was making things worse. Neither of them could take care of the other, and they had both spiraled. Jennifer had been committed, in the end. 

Derek still visited her, sometimes. But mostly it just hurt more, afterward. He hadn’t been able to help her, to save her from herself. You can’t fix people just by loving them, the human mind didn’t work like that. 

“Derek,” Laura called out, bringing Derek from his thoughts. “Dinner is ready.”

Wine was served with dinner. Derek had three glasses of it. He felt the tingling body buzz, the numbness of the wine which made him more at ease with the night. It dulled his senses enough that he could tune out his uncle’s rambling about different projects at work, about Laura’s needing to fire two employees, about Cora’s finally meeting her neighbors. He had nothing to report or to share. 

Derek lived in Murray Hill, so when it was time to say good night he, Cora, and Peter went their separate ways. When he got home to his empty apartment, he felt alone for the first time in months. He took a long shower, letting the water cascade down his body until the water ran cold. He crawled into bed then waited for sleep to come. 

His week went by just like most, mundane and repetitive. Wake up, work, work out, go home, then do the same the next day. It wasn’t until the weekend hit, on Sunday which was Derek’s night off, when he got a phone call that broke the mold. 

“Hello?” Derek asked as he answered his phone. He was at his apartment doing laundry, the most domestic thing possible for his day off. He hated laundry day. 

“Mr. Hale?” A female voice asked over the receiver. 

“Who is this?” 

“Hi, this is Allison Argent. I am calling because Mr. Stilinski had a cancellation and he mentioned that you may be interested-”

“Yes,” Derek said as he cradled the phone between his cheek and shoulder so that he could move his towels from the washer to the dryer. Allison chuckled. 

“I didn’t even say when,” she said, obviously smiling. Derek bit his lip because he hadn’t meant to seem so eager. “But the cancellation was for tomorrow night at eight.” Derek waited a few seconds before he answered. 

“That will work for me.”

“Would you like to cancel your Thursday appointment?” She asked him. Derek thought about it, about how much money this was going to cost him. 

“No, I don’t think that will be necessary.” 

“Alright, Mr. Hale. I have you scheduled on Monday at 8PM and Thursday at 3:30.”

“I’ll be there,” Derek assured her before hanging up. 

He ended up spending the rest of the day switching out laundry while making his way through various threads on Reddit. After folding his laundry, Derek ended up with four unmatched socks. It always happened, inevitably. He never understood how socks always ended up getting lost, but there was no stopping it from happening. Derek was about to start making himself dinner when his phone rang. He was surprised to see it was Cora’s name that showed up on the screen. 

“Hey, what’s up?” He asked as he answered the phone.

“Come to dinner with me,” Cora begged. Derek could picture her pouting on her end. 

“I was just about to make something-”

“No. Bar. Come now.”

“No bars, Cora.”

“Come to the bar, Derek. Have you done anything social this weekend? It is Sunday and you didn’t do anything.”

“I like not doing things,” Derek pointed out. “I worked out, I saw everyone at the gym.”

“That does not count in the slightest. You guys just grunt at each other and show each other your muscles.” Derek snorted at her assumption that that was what they did at the gym. “You have an hour to show up.”

Derek didn’t even have time to respond before she hung up. He looked down at what he was wearing: a faded t-shirt and a clean pair of gym shorts. With a sigh, he walked into his room to change into something more bar appropriate. 

With a weekend’s worth of stubble on his face, he managed to show up in just under the hour that Cora had allotted him. He knew the bar she had meant, one that was practically around the corner from her apartment building. When he managed to find her inside, she was talking to someone at a table. There were empty glasses around the table, like they had already been there for a while. As Derek approached, he noted that there must have been a third, because a half empty glass sat on a napkin unattended. 

Cora pat the seat next to hers, beckoning Derek to sit. 

“Derek, this is Isaac, he lives next door. I just ran into he and his roommate while I was waiting for you to get here.” 

“Hey,” Derek said as he sat down. “Looks like you’ve been here a while.”

“They were here when I showed up,” Cora pointed out. “This is my first.” She showed Derek that she was only halfway through with it. 

“What are you having?” Derek asked her. 

“Blue Moon,” Cora told him. “Isaac’s been drinking Black and Tans.” 

The waitress, a girl by the name of Tiffany, walked up with a smile, resting her hand on the back of Derek’s chair. 

“You finally show up?” She asked congenially. Derek nodded, assuming that Cora had mentioned that they had someone else coming. “What can I get you?” Derek pointed at Isaac’s drink. 

“I’ll have one of those.” She smiled at him again, then looked to Isaac.

“I’ll have another as well.” 

“Where’d the other one go to?” She asked. 

“He had to leave,” Isaac said. “I’m picking up his tab.”

“Good roommate,” Derek pointed out. Isaac shrugged. 

“He handed me cash. He got a phone call and had to leave.” Derek nodded his head in understanding as he looked over the food menu. He ended up ordering a burger. Not as healthy as he would have eaten at home, but spending time with Cora was always fun, and meeting Isaac wasn’t half bad either. Isaac was closer to Cora’s age, so they mostly talked about college and movies that had come out recently. 

In the end, Derek had five beers and hadn’t even noticed that it was almost ten o’clock by the time they left. He wasn’t drunk, but he wasn’t sober either. He started walking towards the subway, leaving Cora and Isaac to get home on their own, when he heard a familiar voice call his name. 

“Derek?” Stiles asked. Derek had to look twice before he registered just who he was seeing randomly on a street in New York. You didn’t just _run_ into people in New York. 

“Stiles,” Derek said with a frown. He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Stiles was standing in front of him with his hands shoved into a peacoat, his face almost obscured with a scarf. “What are you doing here?” He asked before thinking. Stiles smiled at him. Well, it was more of a smirk really, but Derek was going through a whole body buzz at the moment and everything was warm and glowy. 

“I live near here,” Stiles said after a moment of consideration. 

“So does my sister,” Derek pointed out. He gestured towards the subway. “I’m heading home, going on the subway.” 

“It is a good way to go home,” Stiles said. Even though he was tipsy, Derek could feel the awkwardness. It felt like, when in high school, you saw your teacher outside of school. You just didn’t think teachers exist outside of the classroom. It was a similar feeling, not thinking about Stiles existing outside of the penthouse. Derek’s eyebrows furrowed. 

“You don’t live in the penthouse?” He asked. Stiles laughed as he shook his head. 

“No, that is strictly my business office of sorts.” 

“Ah,” Derek said. 

“I will see you tomorrow, Derek,” Stiles said as he turned to start walking. Derek took the cue, and did the same. 

“Yeah,” he murmured to himself as he made his way down the stairs to the terminal. 

Monday turned out to be a shitstorm. Derek was fifteen minutes late to his seven o’clock appointment which was at Central Park. He somehow landed a training session with a group of six new mothers who were all friends and wanted to get their ‘pre-baby’ bodies back. So when he arrived he had six women with their hands on their hips to answer to. They all stretched together, then went jogging around the park. All was forgiven afterwards, but he didn’t like the feeling it left him with. He didn’t like starting the week off on the wrong foot. 

By the time he made it to his ten o’clock appointment he was ready for the day to be over. Of course, because he wanted it to be over that meant that each hour crawled by. He had a quick lunch before another appointment at another gym, and then had back-to-back appointments at the same gym all afternoon. His own workout gave him the stress relief that he needed, though. He lifted until his muscles ached, was drenched in sweat, chest heaving. He exerted himself, almost forgetting that he had his own appointment at eight. 

He waited until he was home before he showered. He ended up jogging there, since his own gym wasn’t but fifteen blocks from where he lived. The shower was cool, to help his overheated body. He made chicken for dinner, grilled, with a salad. 

Derek dressed in jeans and a tight fitted t-shirt. The jeans were his favorites, old and soft, faded. He had plans for Stiles, and those would mean him on his knees. He wanted to be comfortable as he worked Stiles into a frenzy. He did the dishes before throwing on his coat, leaving them all on the dryer rack to put away once he was home. 

By the clock on his phone, he was ten minutes early to their appointment. He thought about stalling in the hallway, but decided against it. Derek knocked on the door lightly, not at all surprised to hear the pad of feet fast approaching. 

Stiles greeted him with a glass of wine in his hand and a smile on his face. 

“Perfect timing,” Stiles said as he opened the door wider. The knot that Derek hadn’t even realized had been in his stomach all day quickly evaporated as soon as he stepped foot into the penthouse. 

“Perfect how?” Derek asked as he shrugged off his coat. Stiles motioned to a chair where his own was draped over it. Derek laid his on top of Stiles’. Stiles took a sip of his wine, lifting an eyebrow at Derek as his eyes raked over Derek’s ensemble. For a moment, he was self-conscious about the fact that he had dressed so casually when Stiles was in a dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, a pair of trousers, and a vest. He was barefoot, though, which made Derek’s mouth twitch. 

“I just poured myself a glass,” Stiles said as he took a step forward. “Only just got myself ready for our session.” Stiles’ words went straight to Derek’s groin. He wanted to know what exactly Stiles had done to prepare himself. He was within reach of Derek, barely an arm’s length away from him. Derek’s hand extended outwards, fingers tugging on Stiles’ vest. Stiles moved easily, without hesitation. “Glad that Allison booked you for today,” Stiles said as Derek leaned against the back of the chair that held their coats. Stiles was standing between Derek’s spread legs, body leaning ever closer to Derek’s. 

“Is that so?” Derek asked as his fingers trailed up and down Stiles’ chest. Derek licked his lips, unable to keep from noticing that Stiles watched him do it. Stiles leaned in, capturing Derek’s lips with his in a light kiss. There was a sharp intake of breath from Stiles before Derek tugged on his collar, deepening the kiss. Stiles’ free hand came up to the nape of Derek’s neck, his fingers spreading into Derek’s hair as his tongue begged for entrance to Derek’s mouth. Derek couldn’t help but let out a low moan as Stiles rocked his hips against Derek’s growing erection. 

Stiles broke the kiss, taking a step back from Derek to take one last sip of wine before he put it down. 

“You piqued my interest with your email,” Stiles said as he slowly made his way to the bed. Derek followed. “But the question is, are we doing what you asked for Thursday today, or did you have something else in mind?” Stiles asked as his fingers deftly began unbuttoning his shirt. He was looking at Derek with his head tilted, waiting. 

“Do I have a choice? We didn’t discuss beforehand.”

“What do you want?” Stiles asked, his gaze not leaving Derek’s. Derek breathed in and out, unable to think. He took two steps forward until he had his hands over Stiles’ stopping his movements.

“I want to take your clothes off of you,” Derek rasped. He watched Stiles’ Adam’s apple bob up and down. Stiles’ hands moved, covering Derek’s instead of vice versa. 

“Okay,” Stiles said as he lowered his head, watching Derek unbutton the last remaining buttons. He slipped Stiles’ shirt and vest off, letting them fall to the floor. He took another step closer, pressing his body against Stiles’ as his lips grazed Stiles’ now bare collarbone. Stiles’ hands came up, tugging at Derek’s shirt in an attempt at removing it as well. Derek let him, but as soon as it was off, he gave Stiles enough of a shove to get him to fall onto the bed. 

Stiles leaned back on his elbows, and put his feet up on the bed while he spread his legs. Derek thought he looked obscene as he waited expectantly for Derek’s next move. 

“Unbutton your pants,” Derek said from where he stood at the edge of the bed. Stiles pressed his back against the bed, his hands taking their time as they trailed over his bare chest, making a show of it for Derek. Derek placed his hands on Stiles’ knees, pulling him closer. Stiles’ legs dropped off the edge of the bed, straddling Derek as he unzipped his trousers and shoved his hand down his pants with heavy-lidded eyes. Stiles tilted his head upward, exposing his neck as he let out a short moan, his mouth open and inviting. 

Derek could feel a heaviness in his balls already as his dick throbbed, aching to be let out of his jeans. Stiles looked up at him, then his eyes dropped to the obvious bulge in Derek’s jeans. He squeezed his thighs together, making Derek’s knees knock together. Stiles’ hand was moving up and down beneath the fabric of his pants, and that alone had Derek’s mouth watering. He hadn’t been able to touch Stiles last time, let alone taste him. 

Derek grabbed Stiles’ legs, lifting them in the air easily. He tugged at the pant legs, taking Stiles’ pants off and tossing them to the ground. Stiles still had a hand on himself, his boxer briefs shoved down enough to have himself exposed. Derek let go of Stiles’ legs, his hands sliding up Stiles’ thighs as he put one knee on the bed. Stiles reached a hand out, wrapping his fingers around Derek’s wrist in order to bring Derek’s fingers up to his mouth. Stiles slowly took Derek’s index finger into his mouth, wrapping his lips around it and sucking. Derek closed his eyes, moaning at the feeling, at remembering his cock shoved down Stiles’ throat. 

He pulled back, his finger leaving Stiles’ mouth with a definitive _pop_. Stiles moved quickly, lifting himself up by his elbows, his mouth finding Derek’s, lips open and wet from Derek’s finger. Derek reached between Stiles’ legs as they kissed, stroking him slowly, dragging his fingers against Stiles’ balls. Stiles let out a gasp as he let himself fall back against the bed, his teeth raking across his bottom lip. 

“That’s right,” Stiles said as his hands ran over Derek’s torso, dropping to outline his cock with his fingers. “Touch me, make me come.” 

“Not yet,” Derek managed to say. He wanted to take his own cock out and come all over Stiles, but he wasn’t ready to let that happen just yet. They were just getting started. He stroked Stiles once more, then slid his hand away from Stiles’ cock, resting it on his stomach. In reaction, Stiles spread his legs further, licking his lips as he began working open Derek’s jeans. Derek grunted, grabbing hold of Stiles’ wrists, pinning them above his head against the bed. Stiles smirked up at Derek, his fingers brushing Derek’s as they held him in place. 

“I’m doing the touching,” Derek insisted. Stiles bucked his hips upward and off the bed slightly in desperation, in want of Derek’s hands on him. 

“You’re doing the touching,” Stiles acknowledged. “Just you.” 

“Good,” Derek said with a nod. He leaned over, raking his teeth across a nipple as Stiles arched his back, fighting against Derek’s grip on his wrists. Derek’s muscles flexed, keeping Stiles in place without hurting him. Stiles moaned. 

“You’re strong,” Stiles supplied as his chest heaved, his head falling to one side as he smiled up at him. 

“I am,” Derek said, not even trying for modest. Derek shifted, allowing for one hand to move across Stiles’ chest while the other remained at his wrists. Derek traced Stiles’ collarbone, then trailed along his torso. Stiles watched Derek’s movements with rapt attention, waiting for his cock to be touched again. As Derek brushed his fingers over the trail of hair leading to his cock, Stiles let out a whimper, his head thrown back. Derek only stroked him a few times before he let go of Stiles’ wrists. Stiles didn’t even move them as Derek shifted himself so that he was more fully on the bed, kneeling over Stiles as he straddled him, one hand on his cock while the other played with his balls, tugging on them gently. Stiles gripped the sheets above his head, his hips moving in short bursts, meeting Derek stroke for stroke. 

“I want to finger you,” Derek said, his voice lower than normal. Stiles nodded his head a few times as if he had to process the information before he moved. He rolled himself over, sliding one leg up towards his chest, holding it there as he lay on his side, exposing himself for Derek. 

Derek brushed a finger over Stiles’ hole before he palmed his ass, spreading one cheek to the side. Stiles grabbed his knee, hooking his hand around the back of it to hold it in place. He closed his eyes as Derek teased his opening. He was surprisingly tight, Derek surmised, considering his line of work. Derek wasn’t about to ask how or why, not when he was about to work on Stiles’ ass until he came. 

“You want lube?” Stiles asked, his neck craned so that he could watch Derek. Derek lifted an eyebrow.

“Do _you_?” Stiles’ body shook with laughter. 

“Depends,” Stiles said. “On whether you were going to eat me out or not.” Derek withdrew his hand. “Because in your email it said you were.”

“I’d like that,” Derek admitted. Stiles shifted, then, onto his knees, placing his head down on the bed, cradled by his arms as he spread his legs. 

“No lube, then,” Stiles murmured, his voice muffled by his hands. Derek’s breath caught in his throat. Stiles’ ass was in the air, waiting for him, his back arched downwards. He even wiggled it just enough that it was noticeable. Stiles looked back at Derek with his lip caught between his teeth. Derek watched as Stiles reached between his legs and started jacking off. 

That brought Derek out of his reverie. He pulled Stiles closer to the edge of the bed as he got off of it. Derek spread Stiles’ cheeks apart, running his tongue in one long sweep from Stiles’ balls all the way up the cleft of his ass. Stiles let out a sigh, his legs spreading further as Derek’s tongue teased at his opening. 

Stiles’ hands replaced Derek’s in keeping him spread, leaving Derek’s hands free. With one hand he leisurely stroked Stiles’ cock, bringing it behind him so that Derek could take Stiles’ head into his mouth. Stiles let out a choked sob as Derek’s tongue swirled around his head, a bead of precome spread into Derek’s mouth and he savored the taste of Stiles before moving his mouth back to Stiles’ ass, pressing inwards with his tongue. Stiles rocked against Derek’s mouth at the intrusion. 

“Oh, yes,” Stiles let out. “Just like that.” Derek grabbed onto Stiles’ thighs, bringing him closer, wanting to taste more of him, to make him shake as he ate him out. Derek pressed a finger against Stiles’ opening. It slid in easily with Derek’s spit and saliva, along with his tongue. Derek twisted his finger, circling it around and around, spreading Stiles as he licked at his opening. “Fuck,” Stiles almost shouted as Derek crooked his finger at just the right angle. “Again, do that again.” 

Stiles’ thighs shook as Derek added another finger, his teeth nipping at the tender flesh of his ass. “More,” Stiles demanded. 

Derek pushed Stiles against the bed, one hand on his lower back while the other fingered him, picking up the pace. Stiles let go of his ass, grabbing hold of the sheets around him, pulling them close as he let out stilted groans, unable to keep quiet. 

“I’m going to come,” he gasped. “Make me come, Derek.” 

Derek had every intention of making Stiles come, but not yet. Derek pulled out of Stiles, making him rock backwards at the loss of Derek’s fingers within him. Stiles looked back at Derek, confusion written across his face, along with something else. Perhaps fear that he was doing something wrong, that he was doing his job wrong. Derek pushed the thought from his mind as he manhandled Stiles, shifting their positions. He got onto the bed so that they were facing each other, grabbing one of Stiles’ legs he draped it over his own thigh, then slid his hand over Stiles’ ass, spreading his cheek then clutching it in his hand. Stiles rocked his hips back, wanting friction as they lay there. 

“Don’t come yet,” Derek said as Stiles began to move a hand down towards his own cock. “I don’t want you to come yet.” Stiles nodded, his pupils blown as he looked at Derek from heavy lidded eyes. 

“O-Okay,” Stiles mumbled. Instead of stroking his own cock, he wrapped his fingers around his base, acting as a cockring. “Not coming.” 

“Good,” Derek said with a smile. He looked at Stiles’ lips, then, wondering if he could kiss him now that his lips and mouth had been on Stiles’ ass. Stiles answered the question for him by capturing Derek’s lips with his, his tongue immediately begging entrance to Derek’s mouth. Derek groaned, pulling Stiles closer to him, his naked cock rubbing against Derek’s stomach. Derek was beyond hard in his jeans, and wanted desperately to come, to be touched, but he wanted Stiles to first. 

Derek pushed a finger into Stiles, and then another, as they kissed. Stiles moaning at each movement through their kisses as he rocked against Derek’s fingers. 

“Please,” Stiles asked against Derek’s lips. “ _Derek._ ” Derek quickened his pace, his fingers opening up Stiles with their movements. Stiles shook in his arms, his back arching, the leg around Derek’s waist tightening. “I’m coming, I can’t-” 

Stiles let out a shuddering gasp as he came between them, his come mostly on his own stomach and chest. Derek grunted. As Stiles lay limp in his arms. He withdrew his fingers from him, smearing wetness across Stiles’ thighs. He worked open his jeans, then, letting his cock fall free. His underwear had a wet patch where he had been straining against them, precome making it easy for the slide of his foreskin as he jacked himself off. Stiles watched as Derek quickly worked himself closer to orgasm. 

“Can I-”

“No,” Derek gasped as his head dropped onto Stiles’ shoulder. “Just let me-” Derek let out an audible sob as he came in hot waves, covering Stiles’ come with his own. Stiles’ hand moved to his stomach, smearing both of their come together. Derek grit his teeth, rolling Stiles onto his back so that he could lay between Stiles’ legs. Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist as Derek moved his hips, rocking hard against Stiles’ opening, rubbing against him until he was fully soft. Stiles was panting when Derek finally slowed, his own hand running through both of their messes. 

Stiles was silent for a while as he recovered. It was clear when he had made his decision to move, because he untangled himself from Derek to disappear into the bathroom. Derek stayed put, not ready to move yet as he listened to the faucet turn on then off again. Stiles reappeared with two wash cloths, one for him and one for Derek. 

“Want water, or some wine?” Stiles asked. He was pulling on his boxer briefs. “Or something harder?”

“What do you have?” Derek asked. He was surprised Stiles wasn’t kicking him out. Last time it was ‘come’ and go. Stiles gave him a small, tired smile. 

“Full bar. You’re welcome to it, after you get dressed.” 

Derek dressed himself slowly. He had the taste of Stiles in his mouth, and he wasn’t quite ready to flush it away with alcohol. When Derek walked into the living room section of the penthouse, Stiles was seated on the two seater couch with his wine in one hand and his iPad in his lap. He looked up at Derek, discarded his iPad, then stood up. 

“Make a decision?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded his head. 

“Scotch, on the rocks.” 

“Gotcha,” Stiles said as he set his wine down in order to make Derek his drink. Derek sat on the couch, next to where Stiles had just been sitting. Derek took his drink when it was offered to him, watching as Stiles sat down next to him with ease. There was something about the casualness, the lack of cuddling after sex that reminded him that he as paying for this, that there was nothing to them except the slide of skin against skin. With that portion of the night over, the intimacy was severed. It was surreal to Derek, to think that normally he would drape an arm around someone he’d just come on. He would nuzzle their neck and kiss them. There was none of that here. 

Stiles sat, tapping at his iPad as he sipped his wine. He finished the glass, then poured himself another then handed the iPad to Derek. It was time to pay for his services. Derek took out his card, swiped it, then signed his name. Something about it felt hollow, distant. Stiles watched Derek’s movements as he placed the iPad on the coffee table in front of them.

“I was looking at my calendar,” Stiles said, interrupting Derek’s spiral into ‘why was he messing around with an escort’ territory. “And I saw that Allison didn’t cancel your Thursday appointment.” Derek frowned at the mention of Stiles not realizing that Derek hadn’t cancelled their other appointment, not when he had mentioned it earlier. Unless Stiles was fishing for Derek’s reasoning, that he wanted to know why Derek hadn’t cancelled. Derek shrugged. 

“I told her it wasn’t necessary.” 

“Ah,” Stiles said as he took another sip of wine. “Then you are going to have to think of what you want for Thursday.” 

“I already know,” Derek said maybe a little too fast. Stiles didn’t look at all surprised. He waited for Derek to say something. Derek’s scotch was gone, but he couldn’t seem to get himself to move. “I want to fuck you.” Stiles visibly relaxed, as if he had been holding in his breath as he waited. 

“After tonight, I can’t wait.” 

It was a simple sentence, one probably used on every john who walked through the penthouse doors, but as Stiles stood up to signify the end of their session, Derek couldn’t help but feel excited about Thursday.


	3. Chapter 3

Stiles had every intention of sleeping in on his day off, but plans always seemed to get foiled somehow. He was woken up by a knock at the door, repeating over and over until he stumbled towards the door. 

“Hold on!” Stiles shouted. He made his way to the door, pulling on a shirt as he walked bleary-eyed to unlock the door. When he opened it, he was greeted by Cora. 

“Stiles!” She said a little too loud for whatever time it was. It didn’t matter what time it was, really, because to Stiles it felt like zero dark thirty. “Why aren’t you dressed?” She asked with a frown. Stiles ran his fingers through his hair as he looked around helplessly. “Did Isaac not tell you? Lunch. We are going to lunch.” 

“Wha-?” Stiles asked with a shake of his head. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon. Why aren’t you up? Were you sleeping?” Cora walked into his apartment, straight into the kitchen. Stiles watched her go, unable to stop her. He sat at the bar, on a stool, as he watched her make coffee. 

“I work late,” Stiles mumbled as he laid his head down on the countertop and closed his eyes. “Too early.” 

“I’m done with classes for the day. My Mondays and Wednesdays are over at 11:30.” 

“Hurrah,” Stiles murmured. “Good for you.” 

“Isaac said he was going to be off work for lunch, and we should all go.” 

“Okay,” Stiles said, sitting up. “Don’t need to twist my arm. I just have to shower.”

“Or you could just get dressed,” Cora said innocently. Stiles lifted his eyebrows, knowing exactly what his hair looked like right now. “Just put a hat on.” Stiles narrowed his eyes at Cora’s seeming ability to read his mind. Just then, Isaac decided to walk in. 

“You aren’t dressed,” he said with a pout. Stiles almost growled as he stood up. 

“You forgot to tell him about lunch,” Cora pointed out as Stiles made his way into his room. He shut the door so that all he could hear was muffled conversation. He pulled on a pair of jeans and switched his shirt after putting on deodorant. He grabbed a cardigan and a beanie, shoving it on his head to cover his bed-head before going in the bathroom to brush his teeth. 

It only took him around seven minutes to get ready. When he walked back out into the kitchen Cora had a to-go thermos ready for him, which he took gratefully. The three of them made their way out of the building and began making their way down the street. Stiles let them lead the way as he followed, waiting for the caffeine to kick in. 

They ended up at a bistro where they shared spinach and artichoke dip as they waited for their food. Stiles ordered a pesto chicken melt even though he wasn’t very hungry. 

“We should go see a movie,” Cora suggested as she ate her grilled vegetable sandwich. Stiles stole one of her sweet potato fries when she wasn’t looking. “Isaac, look up movie times.”

“I had plans,” Stiles pointed out. “Today is my only day off,” he pouted.

“But you never do anything on your days off,” Isaac said as he scrolled through his phone, looking for the Fandango application. Stiles stuck his tongue out. 

“Exactly.” He was sore and exhausted from his week, and all he wanted was his bed. Maybe a movie would be a good idea, he could just sit in the dark and take a nap. Movies were such a faux version of being social. It was exactly what he needed. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t like the fact that he suddenly seemed to have friends that weren’t Scott and Allison, it was more of the fact that they didn’t know what he did for a living. They didn’t know why his hours were weird, why he didn’t date. Stiles didn’t like lying, but to him it was more of an omission of the truth. He really liked Cora and Isaac. Adding them to his plate was harder than he thought it would be. His life was already so social that he found it hard to have the energy to do much with them. 

“There is a 2:15 showing of the new Bruce Willis movie,” Isaac said as Cora grabbed his phone. 

“It only got three stars.”

“But it’s Bruce Willis,” Isaac said as if that was enough justification. Stiles smirked. 

“I’m in.” Cora glared at him, then poked him in the ribs. “Ow,” he feigned as he grabbed hold of his chest. “Don’t.”

“Oh, are you ticklish?” Cora asked, looking mischievous. Stiles shook his head. 

“No,” he lied. Cora attacked, running her fingers up his arm, then down his side. Stiles squirmed, pushing his chair away from her. “Stop!” He laughed, reaching out to get her back. Cora squealed as she threw her head back, swatting at Stiles. They were interrupted by Cora’s phone ringing. Stiles let up, going back to his sandwich as she answered it. 

“Hey, what’s up bro?” She asked, glaring at Stiles as if he was about to attack her again. Stiles shrugged innocently at her. He hadn’t been the one that started the tickle fight. 

“Tell him I said ‘hey’,” Isaac said as he, too, stole one of Cora’s fries. She smacked his hand, then took one of his regular ones in retaliation. Stiles could definitely tell that she had a brother. 

“Isaac says ‘hi’, by the way,” Cora said, which made Isaac grin. “Well I’m not going all the way to Chelsea for you. Just go after you get off work later.” Cora rolled her eyes, then mouthed _sorry_ to Stiles. “Hey listen, I’m out with friends so I’m hanging up. Love you, bye.” Cora put the phone down dramatically. “He is ridiculous. He left his phone charger at Laura’s last night and he seems to think I have time to go all the way to Chelsea to pick it up then cart it all the way to Murray Hill.” 

“That is quite a trek,” Stiles said as he took another fry from her plate. She didn’t say anything. “Is he older or younger?”

“Older, but acts about twelve sometimes. Come on, let’s go watch Bruce Willis kick some ass.” 

At the movie theater, Cora sat in between Stiles and Isaac. They bought popcorn to share, but Stiles didn’t have any. He fell asleep before the movie even started. All he could remember was seeing the latest trailer for _The Hobbit_. Well, he didn’t have any popcorn until he woke up with some in his mouth, Cora laughing beside him. 

“I’m sorry,” Cora said between gasps of air as she tried to stifle her laughter. “But you were passed out and your mouth was hanging open and I couldn’t help it.” Stiles glared at her as he chewed the popcorn. He grabbed another handful, just to have something to do. He watched the rest of the movie not knowing what was going on at all. 

On their way back to their apartment building, Stiles’ phone rang. He looked at the caller ID, seeing that it was Allison he hit send, answering it immediately. 

“Hey Allison, what’s up?” He asked as he fell a few steps behind Cora and Isaac in case it was about work. 

“So we are thinking about 7:30 for appetizers and serving dinner about an hour after that.” 

“Okay...” Stiles said, his brow furrowing. “I feel like I have come in on the middle of a conversation you were already having.” 

“I put it on your calendar that Danny was back in town tonight, that we were having a dinner party.” Stiles smacked his forehead, groaning as he stopped walking all together. Isaac and Cora both stopped as well as soon as they saw that Stiles had fallen behind. 

“I totally forgot.”

“You forgot that Danny was coming back, _really_?”

“Yes,” Stiles sighed. 

“This isn’t you just finding a way out of coming, is it? Because I don’t think that will go over very well.”

“I didn’t say I _wasn’t_ coming,” Stiles said, shoving a hand in his coat pocket. “I just forgot, that’s all.”

“Well you promised to bring the wine.”

“Of course I did,” Stiles mused. “I’ll be there at 7:45.”

“7:30,” Allison said before Stiles could hang up. 

“What’s up?” Cora asked. Stiles hadn’t even realized he was still standing in the middle of the sidewalk staring down at his phone. “You look like someone kicked your puppy.”

“It’s nothing,” Stiles said, putting his phone in his pocket. “I forgot I made plans for tonight, my day off is kind of shot now.” 

“That can’t be all,” Cora said, looking at him like she actually cared. She had a hand on his lower back, her thumb moving ever so slightly, comforting him. His shoulders sagged. He wasn’t used to people caring about his emotional well-being. 

 

“It’s a dinner party for my ex,” Stiles admitted. “ _The_ ex. I totally forgot about it, my mind has been on other things.” Stiles wasn’t about to tell them he was thinking about an appointment he had the next day. He had been waiting all week for Thursday to roll around, which was a problem in and of itself. He shouldn’t have butterflies in his stomach about a client, about a session. It was a job. 

“If you don’t want to see them, then don’t go,” Isaac said as if it was the easiest thing. 

“I have to go. It would be a bigger deal if I didn’t show up.”

“Want me to go with you?” Cora asked, hooking her hand through Stiles’ where his hands were shoved into his pockets. “I could be your hot date.” Stiles smiled. It reminded him too much of his job, about how he was paid to go to parties with people. 

“I’d love that, really, but I think going stag is the way to go.” 

“The offer is on the table if you need me,” Cora winked. “I have a sexy little black dress.”

“I don’t doubt that.” 

Stiles took his time in the shower. His day off didn’t really go as he had planned, which was basically him wanting to stay in bed until he had to eat something or use the bathroom, but he had fun with Cora and Isaac. He also didn’t doubt that he wouldn’t have fun at Allison and Scott’s party. It wouldn’t be a big deal, seeing Danny. Stiles could handle it, he didn’t need to lean on anyone. All he had to do was prepare himself. 

The water was hot, the bathroom full of steam as Stiles leaned against the tiles of the shower, his eyes closed. His thoughts drifted to Monday, to the feel fingers gliding over his body, his hands pinned above his head. Stiles bit his lip as he slid his fingers over his own ass cheeks, spreading them then coming around to tug on his balls. He bent his head down, letting the water’s spray cascade over his body as fingers brushed against his hole. Stiles let out a low groan as he allowed himself to picture Derek, to recall the feel of his fingers inside of him. Stiles shuddered as he pressed inwards. He thought about Derek’s mouth on him, his tongue opening him up. 

Stiles spread his legs so that he could get a better angle, his free hand pressed against the tiled wall for leverage as he began moving his fingers in and out slowly. Stiles never really allowed himself to think about johns as he masturbated. He would bring back vague scenarios sometimes, but never specific instances. Stiles opened his eyes as he pulled his fingers back, his chest heaving as he looked down at his erection. He was hard, so much so that he saw it move as it got even harder. He needed to not think about Derek. 

He grasped for something else to think about as he wrapped his fingers around his cock and began stroking it. He thought about a vague scenario, of him in his own bed, not the king size one in the penthouse, but his bed here in Greenwich Village. He thought about the feel of the sheets as he lay in bed, of hands gripping his thighs, spreading his legs, of stubble scraping across his tender skin, his balls in someone’s mouth.

Stiles’ eyes shot open as soon as he realized it was Derek who he had envisioned again.   
“God dammit,” he hissed as he quickened his pace. There was no use, now. He might as well finish. He used one hand to jack off, as the other teased at his hole. The feeling of Derek washed over Stiles, making him moan. He thought about coming all over himself, of Derek coming on him and their hands smearing it over Stiles’ stomach. 

That was all it took to send Stiles over the edge. He let out a choked sob as he came all over his hand, some splattering onto the tiles, the water’s spray washing it away immediately. Stiles slid down the wall of the shower, raking his fingers through his hair. He never came on his own thinking about anyone. It was always vague scenarios and places, never faces. Never something that had happened. This wasn’t supposed to happen. 

Stiles grit his teeth as he stood up. He needed to pull himself together. 

He arrived at Allison and Scott’s around 7:56 with two bottles of red wine, one for Allison and Scott while the other was for Danny. Allison opened the door, gave him a kiss on the cheek, then looked him up and down. 

“Hugo Boss I see,” Allison said as Stiles handed her the wine so he could shrug off his coat. “Coats go on the bed.” Stiles deposited his coat on Allison and Scott’s bed before he rejoined her in the kitchen where she was opening one of the bottles. They toasted each other silently before taking a sip. “Stiles you pick the best wine, seriously.” 

“He always was good at that,” Danny said, appearing out of nowhere. Stiles gave him a tight lipped smile as he sipped his wine. When he was done, he gave Danny a one-armed hug that was more like a pat on the back than anything. “Good to see you, Stiles.”

“You too,” Stiles supplied automatically. He gave Allison a glance as he took a longer sip of wine. 

“Nice suit,” Danny pointed out, his fingers sliding along Stiles’ tie. “You dress up nicely. All I can picture you in are hoodies and plaid.”

“Not so much into the plaid nowadays,” Stiles said cooly. “Welcome back to NYC.”

“Thanks,” Danny said with a smile. His hands were still on Stiles’ tie, which had him refraining from lifting an eyebrow at Danny’s forwardness. The thing about Danny was that everyone loved Danny. Danny was a smooth talker, and a charmer. He was a good shoulder to lean on in times of trouble, and a fucking amazing lay. He wasn’t modest about it, either. It was the kind of ego that most people found endearing. Where Stiles was self-assured, Danny leaned more on the side of presumptuous more than anything. He knew that he could have his finger wrapped around Stiles with the snap of his fingers if he so wished, so he exploited it. 

Stiles took a step back from Danny, taking another sip. By the way this was going, Stiles was going to drink an entire bottle himself. 

“Stiles!” Scott called out as he rushed over, putting one hand around Stiles’ shoulder, and the other around Danny’s. “Did you just get here?” He asked as he shook them both, jostling them a bit. If Scott felt the tension between Danny and Stiles, he didn’t mention it. 

“He just arrived, fashionably late.” The look Danny gave him made Stiles feel uncomfortable for the first time in ages. He looked at Stiles as if he were a piece of meat, which was something that Stiles was used to, but not by Danny. Danny had been patient with him, kind. He may have broken Stiles’ heart but he didn’t stomp on it and feed it to the wolves or anything. But that look he was just given made Stiles feel like he was a ten-cent whore. He didn’t like it. 

“Getting to Brooklyn is a pain in the ass,” Stiles said with a smirk, a jab at Scott’s choice of living in Park Slope. He finished off his first glass, then refilled it. Luckily, Danny had moved on to another group of people. Stiles eyed him over by Boyd and Erica. 

“You okay?” Scott asked. Stiles couldn’t lie to Scott, so he just shrugged. 

“Oh, you know. Ex that everyone and their mother loves is back in town, I feel awesome.” He popped a cracker in his mouth then took a drink of his wine. He already felt the ever-telling wine buzz tingling throughout his body. Maybe it was for the best. Handling Danny while drunk would be better than sober. 

“Hey,” Scott said as he put his hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “You are the best bro, you know that?” Stiles shrugged off the sign of affection. 

“We aren’t having a moment, Scott.” 

“Yeah, we are,” Scott said as he hugged Stiles. Stiles made an _umph_ noise as Scott held him tight. “Damn the man,” Scott whispered, making Stiles smile. 

“Save the Empire,” Stiles said back. The inside joke may have eased the tension just a little, but if anything it only masked what Stiles was sorely missing in his life: companionship. 

All in all, he was alone. He had Scott and Allison, one of who was technically his employee now, and that was it. There were acquaintances, sure, and then clients. Seeing Danny hit Stiles with a rush of emotions that he wasn’t ready to face. He may be having all the sex he wanted, but there was an emptiness within him that no amount of fucking could fill. 

Or maybe it could. 

Stiles eyed Danny from across the room. He was on his fourth glass of wine before Danny made his way back over to him. They had been catching each other’s gazes throughout the night, Danny giving himself a small smirk each time they broke eye contact. Stiles’ throat was dry, his chest tight as Danny leaned in close, his lips ghosting across Stiles’ ear. 

“Crash at mine tonight?” Danny asked as his hand slid across Stiles’ ass. Stiles shut his eyes, his lips parting as his resolve quickly crumbled. He nodded his head in an answer, not trusting his own voice as he drank from his wine glass. Danny’s tongue teased at Stiles’ earlobe, his teeth nipping at it before he walked away. 

Stiles was leaning against the back of the couch as his heartbeat attempted to slow. He wanted to be fucked, he needed it. He would feel better, he told himself, if he just let Danny fuck him. Stiles couldn’t remember the last time he fucked or got fucked for free. That thought alone sent him reeling. 

Before he knew it, he was in the bathroom splashing water on his face. 

“Pull yourself together,” Stiles said aloud to himself. “Come on.” He looked at himself in the mirror. “Don’t be weak,” he muttered. 

“Stiles?” Allison asked as she rapped on the door with her knuckles. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Stiles called out as he moved to open the door. He unlocked it, then cracked it open enough so that Allison would get the message that she was allowed in. She appeared at the door with a look of worry across her face. 

“So not fine, then?” She teased kindly. Stiles let out a stifled laugh, but cut it short as she closed the door behind her. “Want to talk about it?” She asked. Stiles shrugged. 

“What’s to tell? He leaves for years, comes back, and thinks that with the snap of his fingers I will fall to my knees in front of him.”

“Are you?” Allison asked. Stiles crossed his arms, looking away from her. “You don’t have to, you know.” 

“How shitty of a person would I be if I said I want to?” Stiles asked, scared to hear the answer. He got a stroke on his cheek, then Allison nudged him so that he would look at her. “He asked if I wanted to go home with him, and I said yes.”

“Is that a good idea?” Allison inquired. Stiles sighed as he closed his eyes, shaking his head. 

“Cora asked if I needed a date tonight,” Stiles mumbled. “I should have taken her up on her offer, but I don’t need to hide behind someone.”

“You just need to hide in the bathroom,” Allison joked. Stiles cracked a small smile, then shoved her lightly. “You see him differently than we do, Stiles,” Allison said, referring to Danny. “We see him as the charmer, the good friend. You see him as the one who pushed you towards who you are today. Despite that, this Stiles, the one in front of me? Is an amazing person. I don’t want to see you get hurt again.” 

Stiles hadn’t even realized he was so worked up, so when tears started to fall he let out a gasp as his hands shot towards his face to wipe them away. Allison grabbed a washcloth out from under the sink, wetting it. She dabbed Stiles’ face where it was red and splotchy from the tears. “If I were you, I wouldn’t sleep with someone who made me feel like less of a person.”

Stiles sniffled, rolling his eyes a bit. 

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” Allison said as she swatted at him with the washcloth. 

“I sleep with a lot of people who think I am less of a person,” Stiles pointed out. 

“But do you think that way when all is said and done?” Allison asked. Stiles shook his head. 

“No.”

“And if you slept with Danny tonight, how would you feel afterwards?” 

“Shitty,” Stiles admitted. “Like I let myself down.” 

“So don’t.” 

She kissed Stiles on the cheek, then walked out of the bathroom. Stiles gave himself a few more moments before reemerging. He grabbed his glass of wine, topped it off, then set out to mingle. He pushed his feelings back into a corner of his mind that he didn’t want to touch with a ten-foot pole as he talked with Scott and Boyd. Erica was hanging on him at one point, but had no idea of his slight break in normal demeanor earlier in the bathroom. Stiles was good at hiding himself from others. 

Everyone has insecurities, has a breaking point. Stiles knows his is Danny, that it stems from their relationship. As long as he didn’t go home with him, everything would be okay. Stiles would go home, alone, and sleep, _alone_. He would wake up and it would be Thursday. 

Around midnight Danny started eyeing Stiles, slowly working his way over to him. Stiles’ heart beat rapidly at Danny’s approach, mostly because he was drunk and he was unsure that he wouldn’t be able to say no when it came down to it. Stiles turned to Scott, reaching out for his hand quickly. 

“Scott, buddy, do me a solid would you?”

“Sure, anything,” was Scott’s reply. Stiles smiled at him. 

“Keep Danny occupied while I slip out.” 

“What?” Scott asked. He was intoxicated and explaining the situation would not help in the slightest. Stiles decided that he was a coward. He’d rather just slip out while Danny wasn’t paying attention than to flat out tell him he didn’t want to have sex. 

“Just.. go tell Danny about your promotion, did you tell him about it yet?” Stiles asked him. Scott thought for a moment about if he had or not. 

“I don’t remember.”

“Well then you should probably tell him, then!” Stiles said, urging Scott towards Danny. Danny looked over, seeing exactly what Stiles was doing as he set his wine glass down to go grab his coat. 

When he walked into the master bedroom he groaned at the sight of the bed. His coat was lost in a huge pile. He started digging, looking for it, when he heard the door close. He stood up straight, turning around to see Danny leaning against the closed door with a smirk. 

“Slipping out without saying goodnight?” Danny asked. Stiles shrugged, feigning calm. “Decided not to relive the old days?” 

“I figure what’s past, is past,” Stiles said as strongly as he could. He was pretty sure his voice wavered, though. “Why bring that back to the surface?”

“Was what we had all that bad?” Danny asked. Stiles bit his lip, shook his head. 

“No.”

“So then what’s wrong? You're not dating anyone, and you showed up alone.” Stiles bristled. He didn’t need anyone, he was happy with how his life was. 

“I don’t date,” Stiles said truthfully. “And I am not looking for anything right now.”

“With your libido?” Danny asked with an arched eyebrow. Stiles grit his teeth, jaw clenched. Danny had said it as a joke, but there was truth steeped in it. Stiles put on his coat without a word. He needed to get out of here before he did or said something that he would regret. 

Danny, though, blocked the door. 

“Come on, Stiles,” Danny smiled. “We had a lot of fun in college.” 

“And then you went to England for four years,” Stiles pointed out. “And left me here.” Alone. Stiles couldn’t say it out loud, to say it would to mean that he was unhappy, that he needed someone. He refused to say it. 

“Now I am back, though,” Danny said as he stepped forward. Stiles shivered as Danny touched his neck, gripping the nape as he pulled him forward. “I missed you.” Stiles’ hands were pressed against Danny’s shirt as his eyes closed. Danny smelled exactly the same, and that made him ache. Just as Danny’s lips were about to brush Stiles’ he pushed Danny back. 

“I am not someone you can just press pause on, Danny,” Stiles said forcefully. “You can’t-” he breathed heavily, trying to swallow air, “you can’t expect me to be okay with you waltzing back into my life.” 

“You loved me,” Danny said nonchalantly. Stiles felt bile rising up into his throat. “I want-”

“No,” Stiles said as he walked around Danny, making a beeline for the door. “I don’t want you.” 

He left Danny in the master bedroom surrounded by coats. Stiles practically ran out the door, not even stopping to say goodnight to Scott or Allison. He was sure they would understand. The time it took him to get home went by in a blur. His apartment door was unlocked when he arrived. Immediately he knew he wouldn’t be alone as he entered. 

Isaac and Cora were on the couch watching a movie. Stiles thought he had interrupted something but by the looks of it he hadn’t. He felt a tightness in his chest. 

“How’d it go?” Cora asked, hesitating. Stiles shook his head as he shrugged off his coat. “That bad?”

“I just want tonight to be over,” Stiles admitted. 

“Want to talk about it?” Isaac asked, looking unsure. Stiles shook his head again. He didn’t want to talk about it at all, actually. He wanted to forget the whole thing. He tugged on the confining collar of his shirt, then started unbuttoning it as he walked towards his room. 

“You need a cuddle buddy?” Cora called out from her spot on the couch. 

“Rain check,” Stiles shouted as he shut his door, then leaned against it. He looked towards his bed then sighed at how inviting it looked. He just wanted to sleep. 

In the bathroom, he splashed water on his face after he got undressed, then brushed his teeth. He crawled into bed, pulling his sheets close to his chin, burying his face in his pillow. Sleep came almost immediately. 

Stiles went about his normal morning routine: workout, shower, breakfast/lunch, get ready for the day. He woke up at noon, sleeping almost eleven hours. He was in transit to the penthouse when he got a call from Allison. 

“Hey,” he said as he answered his phone. 

“Good morning,” Allison said even though it was almost three in the afternoon. She knew Stiles so well. “I just got Deucalion’s medical exam faxed over from Deaton and everything checks out.” Stiles’ brow furrowed. 

“That was fast,” he said, thinking back to his and Deucalion’s initial meeting. “Really fast.” 

“Do you want me to email him and confirm for Tuesday?” She asked. 

“Uh, yeah, if everything was clear I don’t see a reason not to.”

“You don’t sound so sure, do you not want to get into this contract? I also sent him the contract I wrote up for your session, he signed it electronically but I told him to bring by a hard copy with a wet signature when he shows up for his session.” 

“Yeah, of course I’m fine with the contract,” Stiles said, confusion playing across his face. “Why wouldn’t I be okay with it?” Allison sighed, but said nothing. 

“You left in a hurry last night.”

“Well I was about to make a mistake so I bolted,” Stiles told her, not really wanting to go into the details. “Sorry for being rude.”

“No, it’s fine. I understand. Scott was a bit confused but he’ll get over it.” 

“I’ll make it up to him.”

“You better,” Allison teased. “So you have your 3:30 with Mr. Hale, then an 8 o’clock with Mr. Jones.” 

“Correct,” Stiles said. “Then a midnight appointment as well.”

“You’re right, sorry I didn’t scroll over into tomorrow.” 

“I tend to make sure I do,” Stiles said as he approached the elevator to the penthouse. “I’m getting into the elevator now, I will see you tomorrow before I come here.”

“See you then,” Allison said before hanging up. 

Stiles made himself comfortable before Derek arrived. It was too early for a drink, and in all honesty Stiles didn’t want the taste of wine in his mouth, not after the night before. He pushed the thought of Danny from his mind as 3:30 neared. As he waited, he sat on the couch, checking emails on his iPad. He lost track of time, not realizing that it was nearing 3:45 by the time that there was a knock at the door. 

Stiles opened it to reveal Derek, dressed in jeans and a henley, looking flushed. Like he ran up the stairs. Stiles lifted an eyebrow at him. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Derek said. 

“Do you want a glass of water?” Stiles asked as he let Derek in. 

“Sure,” Derek said as he entered. Stiles offered him the water, then watched as Derek downed the entire glass. For the first time all day, Stiles felt at ease. He could do this, he could do his job and do it well. He wanted to make Derek come, needed to feel that satisfaction that he was the reason that Derek became undone. 

Stiles smiled at Derek. 

“You ran?” Stiles asked as Derek set the glass down on the countertop. Derek gave a short nod. 

“A client of mine ran over their allotted time because they were late. So I was running late. I didn’t have your card on me and I don’t have your number programmed in my phone so... I ran.” Stiles couldn’t help but bite his lower lip to hide the genuine smile that threatened to emerge at Derek’s story. Derek rushed to get here. 

“Client?” Stiles asked, evading the butterflies that seemingly gathered in his stomach upon Derek’s arrival. For the first time, Derek looked shy. “You don’t need to tell me what you do,” Stiles said easily, adding a shrug in just for good measure. He made his way to the couch, knowing that Derek would follow. 

“No, it’s fine. I am a personal trainer.”

“No wonder,” Stiles said with a smirk, visibly eyeing Derek’s muscle definition. The shirts he wore always were tight around the bicep area. Stiles knew he wasn’t really showing off but still. Derek blushed, which Stiles had not been expecting. He reached out for Derek’s hand, grabbing hold of his wrist and tugged him onto the couch. “I like when you do that,” Stiles admitted. He wasn’t thinking about the fact that it wasn’t a lie that he was just telling a client to turn them on. He pushed that to the back of his mind, where thoughts of Danny were stored and locked away. This wasn’t the time or place for emotion. 

Derek closed his eyes and sighed as Stiles’ fingers brushed over the nape of his neck, trailing along the underside of his jaw slowly as Stiles’ eyes darted across Derek’s face. 

“When I am embarrassed?” Stiles couldn’t help but laugh. 

“No, I didn’t mean that,” Stiles told him, leaning in. “I meant when you blush.” His lips brushed against Derek’s earlobe. Derek let out a shuddering breath, his head turning towards Stiles so that he could capture his lips in a kiss. Stiles breathed in the kiss, his eyes closing as he cupped Derek’s face with his hands, his thumbs rubbing against Derek’s stubble. The kiss deepened, their tongues sliding together as Stiles shifted his weight, then managed to end up straddling Derek’s lap. 

Derek broke the kiss, moving his mouth over Stiles’ jaw, slowly working his way down his neck. Stiles rolled his hips as his hands trailed down Derek’s chest and started tugging at his shirt, wanting it off of him. Derek complied, allowing Stiles to throw it over his shoulder. 

“I want to make you blush,” Derek admitted. It made Stiles groan, his head nodding. “I want to fuck you.” 

“Yes,” Stiles said as he began unbuttoning his own shirt. Derek watched him, his hands on Stiles’ thighs, moving up and down them as he bucked his hips upwards, showing Stiles how hard he was already. A shiver went up Stiles’ spine as he finally dropped his shirt to the ground because Derek’s mouth was on his collarbone, then his tongue teased at his nipple. Stiles’ fingers raked through Derek’s hair as Derek’s teeth nipped at his skin. “Ah, fuck,” Stiles gasped. “I like that.”

“Do you?” Derek asked as he rubbed his stubbled chin across Stiles’ chest as he looked up at him. 

“Yes,” Stiles said as he ground his hips down to show Derek just how much he liked it. Derek hummed with happiness beneath Stiles, which made him smile. He wanted Derek to enjoy this. He slipped his hand down Derek’s chest, then gripped Derek’s erection through the fabric of his jeans. “What do you want?”

“You,” Derek answered simply. Stiles stilled for a moment, his breath caught in his throat. Derek seemed to notice, so he covered by raking his teeth over a sensitive nipple, making Stiles hiss with pleasure. “On your hands and knees.”

“I can do that,” Stiles said as he stroked Derek through his jeans, making Derek arch his back. “But we’re going to have to move to the bed.” 

In his mind, Stiles saw them walking to the bed like normal human beings. What happened in reality was Derek lifting Stiles, wrapping Stiles’ legs around his waist, then walking Stiles to the bed with his hands on the underside of Stiles’ ass. 

“Jesus fucking... how the fuck did you get up from-”

Derek smirked at him as he deposited Stiles on the bed like a ragdoll. “That was not possible.” Stiles was by no means small. He was tall, with broad shoulders and sinewy muscle. He weighed more than he looked and he knew it. 

“Personal trainer,” Derek reaffirmed. Stiles’ eyebrow arched. 

“Can you fuck me like that?” Stiles asked. 

“Do you want me to?” Derek countered. Stiles looked up at him from where he was sitting on the bed. He was at eye level with Derek’s belly button, the trail of hair that led down beneath his jeans teasing at what was underneath made his mouth water. He wanted to blow Derek. 

“It isn’t about what I want,” Stiles said automatically because it was true. He was getting paid to do what Derek wanted, not what he desired. He reached for Derek’s cock, though, knowing that teasing and instigating was fine but he wouldn’t outright say what he himself wanted. He couldn’t. Stiles outlined Derek’s cock with his fingertips. He looked up at Derek, waited for him to say what he wanted, to give the word that he wanted to fuck Stiles’ mouth again. 

Instead, Derek ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair, then cupped his face as he looked down at him. A thumb brushed across Stiles’ lips so he playfully took it into his mouth, sucking on it. He wanted Derek’s cock in his mouth so bad that his mouth was watering. He spread his legs and hooked a hand around Derek’s thigh, bringing him closer. Derek leaned in, but didn’t budge his hands. 

“What if I want it to be?” Derek asked. Stiles stilled once more, his heart hammering in his chest. 

“I want what you want,” Stiles said plainly. “I want you to come by fucking me.” He paused for a moment, thinking about what Derek could want from him. “Hard.” 

Derek gazed down at him with his pupils blown. Stiles hit the jackpot. His hands rubbed up and down Derek’s thighs, his mouth ghosting across his taut stomach, his nose brushing against his happy trail. 

“I want your cock inside me.” He started unbuttoning Derek’s jeans, then unzipping them and pushing them down his thighs. He wasn’t wearing underwear. 

Stiles licked his lips, looking up at Derek for permission. Derek guided Stiles’ mouth forward with a tug of his hair and Stiles couldn’t help but moan as his tongue teased at Derek’s head, his hand stroking downwards to pull back his foreskin. Derek was hard and wet, precome already leaking from his tip from their little bit of grinding on the couch. As Stiles took Derek into his mouth fully, he palmed himself through his own trousers. 

Derek pulled Stiles back and Stiles almost whimpered at the loss of Derek in his mouth. He stroked his cock instead as he looked up at Derek expectantly, his mouth open and wet from sucking on him. 

“Is that really what you want?” Derek asked. Stiles licked his lips again, his eyes on Derek’s cock in front of him. He nodded his head as his eyes slowly moved upwards until he locked his gaze with Derek’s. 

“Yes.” 

At that, Derek moved, pushing Stiles down onto the bed, straddling him as he cupped his face once more before kissing him. Stiles moaned, letting himself forget where he was as he let himself be kissed again. Kissing Derek was not like kissing anyone else. It didn’t feel forced or contrived. It added something to their sessions that had Stiles wanting more. 

It was Derek’s turn now, to get Stiles out of his pants. Stiles felt Derek’s hand around him and sighed at the touch. His trousers were shoved just enough out of the way so that Derek could get him free, could jack him off. 

“Do you want it hard?” Derek asked, his lips pressed against Stiles’ neck as his hand continued to stroke him. “Do you want me to make you scream?” 

“Yes,” Stiles panted as he began shoving his pants enough down his legs that he could shake them the rest of the way off. “I want you to hold me down.” 

“I can do that,” Derek said against his ear. Stiles closed his eyes and smiled as he felt Derek’s other hand tease his hole. He spread his legs to make it easier. “I’m going to need lube.” 

“Okay,” Stiles said, coming back to reality. He scooted himself up the bed and out from underneath Derek in order to get the lube from the nightstand. Derek took the time to undress himself the rest of the way as Stiles situated himself on his hands and knees. 

“Are you still okay with-”

“No condom?” Stiles asked. Derek waited for the answer from him, sighing as Stiles said: “Yes.” It was Derek’s kink, after all. It was what they had negotiated at their initial meeting. The sound of the cap being opened on the lube had Stiles shivering with anticipation at the cool touch that was to come. 

It surprised Stiles when the lube was warm to the touch as Derek pressed against his opening. He had taken the time to warm it between his fingers before applying it. Stiles’ head hung low between his shoulders, his fists clenched in the sheets as Derek pressed inwards, beginning to fuck him with a finger. 

“Another,” Stiles practically demanded as he pushed against the sheets, arching his back so that his ass stuck more in the air, his face now pressed into a pillow. Derek used a second finger to fuck Stiles with, making him moan into said pillow, biting it to keep the sound to a minimum. 

“Don’t do that,” Derek said with a light smack to Stiles’ ass. Stiles immediately looked back to Derek, unsure of what he had done wrong. Derek must have understood, so he pointed at the pillow with his free hand, the fingers inside of Stiles stilling. “I want to hear you.” 

With that, Derek crooked his fingers, making Stiles practically whimper out the next moan as he rolled his hips backwards, wanting more. “Don’t try to cover your noises.”

“Okay,” Stiles said with a nod of his head. 

“Promise me,” Derek demanded while adding a third finger. Stiles panted as he nodded his head. 

“I promise,” he said along with a high pitched gasp as Derek’s momentum picked up, his fingers twisting as he fucked him. Open-mouthed, Stiles let out a litany of noises that he usually kept subdued. 

Stiles collapsed against the bed as Derek pulled out. He was covered in a sheen of sweat already, his chest heaving. Derek looked down at him with an unreadable look. Stiles watched him, unmoving, for a moment before breaking the silence. 

“Still want me on my hands and knees?” He asked. Derek eyed him as if pondering which position he wanted. 

“No, how you are is fine,” Derek said in answer. Stiles’ brow furrowed, because he was on stomach, half on his side with one knee bent. The position would be intimate, not something johns usually wanted. 

“Okay,” Stiles said as he swallowed, his hand grabbing onto a pillow to make himself comfortable. He was faced away from Derek as he pressed his body against Stiles’ back, his hand spreading Stiles’ cheeks. Derek’s cock slid slowly into him, slick with lube. Stiles buried his face into the pillow as he pushed back against Derek’s thrust. He let out a gasp as Derek pulled back slightly only to push forward once more. 

“Stiles,” Derek said, his breath hot against the nape of Stiles’ neck. “You promised.” Derek’s hands were on Stiles’ hips, his nails digging into Stiles’ skin. Stiles moved his head to the side so that his moans could be heard. As soon as he moved, Derek started thrusting slow and hard, making him groan with each movement. 

Stiles could feel Derek’s muscles contracting as he fucked him, his chest pressed up against Stiles’ back. His hand was on Derek’s thigh, then his ass. He loved the feeling of Derek thrusting inside of him. He wanted it harder, faster. 

“Fuck me harder,” Stiles said. Apparently that was all Derek needed, because he rolled Stiles fully onto his stomach, pinned him down by placing his hands on Stiles’ shoulders, then started pounding into him. “Fuck!” Stiles shouted. All he could do was lay there and take it. It felt good, so good to have Derek hold him down. “Just like that,” Stiles encouraged him. “Come on, keep it up. Fuck me.”

Derek practically growled above him, a hand moving to Stiles’ hair, pushing his face into the pillow as the sound of skin smacking against skin filled the room. Stiles’ moans mixed with the wet, slapping sound of sex made Stiles’ balls tighten, his stomach drop. “Fuck, fuck, Derek I’m going to come, slow down,” he begged. He couldn’t even get to his cock. He needed to jack off. 

Derek released the pressure on Stiles, but didn’t stop fucking him as he pulled Stiles back up onto his hands and knees. 

Stiles’s hand went to his waiting erection, his fingers wrapping around himself as Derek’s pace slowed back to the hard but slow thrusts he started out with. Stiles’ head bobbed with each movement, his hand moving quicker than Derek. “Jesus Christ,” Stiles hissed. He hadn’t expected to come so soon. 

“I want to taste you,” Derek said, stilling within Stiles. “Then I want to kiss you.” Stiles shuddered, the hand holding him up giving in. He collapsed as he held tight to the base of his cock, stopping himself from coming right then and there. 

“Okay, okay,” Stiles said between panting. “I’m going to come down your throat.” Derek pulled out of him, making Stiles moan at the sudden loss. But then Derek had him on his back, his mouth around his cock. Stiles let go of his grip on himself, letting Derek take over. Stiles couldn’t even watch, his head turned to the side with his eyes closed. Derek’s mouth on him felt amazing, the hand on his balls felt so fucking good. Stiles managed to grab hold of Derek’s hair as he lapped and sucked at Stiles’ cock. “Shit,” Stiles murmured as he came down Derek’s throat. He squirmed, his stomach contracting as he rode out his orgasm, Derek not stopping his movements as he swallowed him down.

Stiles lay there as Derek licked him clean. Then Derek’s lips were on his. Stiles opened his mouth for Derek, letting the taste of himself linger on his own tongue as the kiss deepened. Derek’s arms wrapped around Stiles as he situated them back to their initial position with his chest pressed against Stiles’ back. He reentered him, then, continuing to fuck him. Stiles was louder, now, unable to cope with the sensory overload. In his post-orgasm high, he was limp and pliable, a ragdoll in Derek’s arms. 

“Can I come inside you?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded his head, his own hand coming up to cover his own face. He would let Derek do anything to him at this point and he would comply.   
Derek grunted at the acquiescence, his lips brushing against Stiles’ shoulder as his movements became more driven, sharp. Stiles felt Derek stiffen and still as he came. He waited for Derek to pull out, but instead he began moving once more. Stiles’ mouth opened in a silent gasp at the feeling, his fingers finding Derek’s as he fucked him until he went limp. Only then did Derek pull out slowly. He lay there next to Stiles, breathing harshly. 

Stiles felt the emptiness as soon as Derek pulled away from him. Tension filled the room, the air was thick with it. Stiles tried to swallow but his throat was dry. 

“I will get us some water,” he croaked. His legs felt like jelly, but he grabbed his underwear as he got out of the bed. He could feel Derek’s come still inside him, already making its way out of him. He made a face as he got them two glasses, bringing it back to Derek. Stiles drank his entire glass of water as he watched Derek do the same. He looked at the clock, they still had some time left. “Take your time getting dressed.”

Derek nodded silently. 

“I’m just... going to clean up,” Stiles pointed towards the bathroom. “I’ll be right back.” 

“I’ll be here,” Derek said with a small smile that Stiles couldn’t help but return. Stiles cleaned himself up, put on a clean pair of boxer briefs, then walked back out into the room. Derek was dressed and sitting on the couch with another glass of water. 

When he saw Stiles walk into the room he stood up. Stiles ran his fingers through his hair, his lip catching on his bottom lip. Derek was ready to leave. Stiles’ stomach sank as he grabbed his iPad to ready Derek’s transaction. There would be no time on the couch, no chance for lingering touches. This was a job, a session. This was what Stiles did. He fucked people and got fucked for money and he was good at it. Stiles straightened, resuming the facade that he always did as his eyes caught Derek’s. 

“You made me scream,” Stiles pointed out with a smirk. Derek snorted, nodding his head, the tension dissipating. “Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

“That all depends,” Derek said as he signed his name. Stiles waited with bated breath. “On how good it was for you.” Stiles beamed. 

“Well,” he said with a sigh. He was good at this, he reminded himself. Banter was easy. “You did make me come before I had intended to.” It was Derek’s turn to smirk now. “So I would say it was pretty good for me.”

“I would give you a gold star if I had one,” Derek said with a slight tinge of red to his cheeks. Stiles looked down at his iPad at that, his smile fading a little because he knew Derek was going to walk out the door. 

“About... next time?” Stiles asked. Derek looked towards the door and Stiles’ hope plummeted. 

“I’ll have to get back to you on that,” Derek admitted. Stiles nodded, then shrugged. 

“Just give Allison a call and she will set something up.”

“Will do,” Derek replied. “Have a good evening.”

“You too,” Stiles said as he walked Derek to the door. With not so much as another glance, Derek was gone. 

“Shit,” Stiles said as he leaned against the door, his head in his hands. “Just a john, you fucking ass,” Stiles said to himself. “Just a fuck.” 

With that, he went into the bathroom to shower before his 8 o’clock.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **please note the added tag** of _non graphic rape/noncon_. for more information see the notes at the end of this chapter. that being said, if you feel as though i have not tagged something properly, please let me know! 
> 
> On another note, holy shit you guys. This fic has more subscribers than I have ever had before and I cannot thank you all enough. I am flabbergasted. 
> 
> PS this fic has given me so many feelings that I was no expecting. If you want to cry with me, just listen to video games by lana del rey and also breathe me by sia and then come into my [ask box](http://slipintothewater.tumblr.com/ask) and tell me how angry you are at me for making you have these feelings about AN ESCORT AU. Because I was not expecting to feel this way, at all. (or me and bk are alone, wallowing in feelings and screaming about them. we could be alone, idk. i know nothing.)

On his way home from Stiles’ penthouse, Derek stopped by the liquor store and bought himself a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. He liked to drink it straight, on the rocks, when his mind was troubled and it was most definitely troubled right about now. 

Derek couldn’t bring himself to make another appointment with Stiles. It wasn’t healthy, but then again, neither was buying a bottle of Jack to wash down emotions that threatened to bubble to the surface. Emotions that he definitely shouldn’t be having for someone who he was paying to have sex with. Mind blowing sex, actually, but that was beside the point. 

With a bottle of Jack now in hand, albeit covered up in a brown paper bag, Derek made his way home. He had just gotten onto the subway when his phone rang. He was surprised to see Boyd’s name appear on his lock screen. 

“Hey,” Derek answered, confusion dripping from his voice. “What’s up?”

“We’re down a man for poker night,” Boyd said matter of factly. “Obviously this means you are missing.”

“Shit,” Derek said, his eyes looking upward. He had forgotten about monthly poker night. “I’m on my way with a bottle of Jack.” 

“Perfect, see you soon.”

So much for being able to go home and wallow in his mistakes, now he had to go be social. His only hope was that he didn’t reek of sex. He didn’t need his friends to rub that in his face. When he arrived to Boyd’s he wasn’t at all shocked to see his little sister in the midst of his friends. She brought Isaac. 

“So much for a guys night,” Derek mused, a smirk appearing across his lips. Cora stuck her tongue out at him. 

“I see you brought me Jack,” she said as she reached out for the bottle. Derek swung it out of her reach. 

“This is mine,” he deadpanned. “Hey, Isaac.”

“Hey,” Isaac said as he took a swig of his beer. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

“Way to be late, man,” Scott said from his seat. Scott wasn’t one of Derek’s closest friends, but they had gotten to know each other through Boyd. Poker nights were for drinking, taking each other’s money, and for making friends. 

“No Jackson?” Derek asked as he looked around. Scott shook his head. Boyd set a glass down in front of the empty chair that was meant for Derek. It had ice in it just waiting for the Jack to be poured. Derek shrugged off his coat then opened the bottle, pouring himself four fingers worth. He deserved it, and it wasn’t like he had to drive. He just had to hop onto the subway and stumble home. 

“He and Lydia went to Hawaii,” Scott said with a sigh. “I wish I could go to Hawaii.” Derek grunted out his agreement. A vacation would be nice right about now. 

“You okay?” Cora asked him as she leaned in close to him, her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized him. Derek eyed her, staying silent. She backed away, rolling her eyes. “Fine. I am about to take all your money.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Derek murmured as he handed Boyd a hundred. Boyd slid Derek his chips and then they started. Three hours later Derek was losing, couldn’t really think straight, and was unable to shake his foul mood. Cora had more chips left than he did and she was being smug about it. 

Boyd was sweeping them all under the table though. 

Derek decided to call it a loss and went all in the next hand. Of course, he ended up winning said hand. It was just his luck. 

“Only you would look angry that they just won a hand that cost two hundred dollars,” Cora fussed. Derek shot her a glare. “Have another drink, Der.”

“I’m done,” Derek said, looking to Boyd. “Calling it a night.” He knew he was slurring his words but he didn’t care. “Have to be up early tomorrow.”

“Yeah, it is getting late,” Scott said with a yawn. He didn’t have many chips left, and was probably just as ready to leave as Derek was. “But I don’t want to move.” Scott had almost a dozen empty beer bottles by him with all of their labels peeled. Derek wasn’t the only one that had been drinking that night. Boyd was the true winner of the night, with Derek coming in second due to his last hand. 

All he could think about on his way home was the fact that the two hundred he ended up with would barely get him a kiss from Stiles. Dropping the money he was on Stiles was not fiscally responsible, and if his family knew what he was blowing his parents’ insurance money on they would flay him alive. 

Derek’s apartment was empty when he stumbled into it. It was always empty. Derek booted up his laptop as the room spun around him. He concentrated as hard as he could, opening up his email. 

From: hale.derek@gmail.com  
To: stilinski.consults@gmail.com  
Date: Thu, Oct 8, 2013 11:35 PM  
Subject: No Subject

I cant aforda yuo. I want ot all you and not Alison to maek appintnemets. Don’taave your numbear.

D

Derek hit send, then immediately regretted his decision. He raked his hands over his face, his eyes widening. He was so drunk. He sat on the desk chair, his head in his hands as he felt the room spinning around him. Eventually, he got up to use the bathroom. He swayed as he washed his hands afterward, looking at himself in the mirror. He didn’t like what he saw there. 

He got into bed, his head still spinning with thoughts he couldn’t stop. He closed his eyes in hopes of drifting off, but all he could think about was Jen and her throwing a dish to the ground at his feet, screaming at him that he couldn’t fix them, couldn’t fix her. He thought about Kate, their relationship before his family’s death, how she had been the one to set light to the fire that ended their lives. Derek curled in on himself as he covered his head with his hands. He didn’t want a relationship because those were too painful. They lead to horrible things, and he didn’t deserve anything good anyway. 

Derek woke up to the sound of his phone alerting him to a new email. He hadn’t put his phone on silent before passing out. His mind was fuzzy, but he was no longer drunk as he opened his eyes to check his email. He groaned when he saw what time it was: 3AM. He had to be up in two hours. The brightness of the screen had him squinting his eyes as he opened his email. 

From: stilinski.consults@gmail.com  
To: hale.derek@gmail.com  
Date: Fri, Oct 9, 2013 3:03 AM  
Subject: Re: No Subject

D.H-  
You can call my office number to schedule an appointment. Never schedule appointments while drunk, please. 

S.S. 

Derek groaned with embarrassment. He couldn’t believe he had drunk emailed Stiles. At least Stiles remained professional. He didn’t need to answer Derek, not when he had clearly made an ass of himself. It left Derek feeling burned, wishing he could hide. He couldn’t fall back asleep after that. 

His day ended up going well, despite the mood he was in. He worked out for an extra forty minutes past his normal time after his appointments for the day were over. Derek was looking forward to having an evening to himself. He needed some time to think. He decided to make himself dinner. Cooking calmed him. Pandora played as he chopped vegetables, and as he was about to start sauteing them, there was a knock at his door. Derek set down the cutting board that he had hovering over the pan with olive oil and butter in it in order to answer the door. 

He wasn’t at all surprised to see Laura and Cora. 

“Surprise!” Laura said as she walked in. She took one look at the vegetables then set two bags up on the counter. “We’re having an intervention.”

“No,” Derek said, his jaw set tight. He looked to Cora, who at least looked embarrassed. He had one night of drinking, one. There was no reason for them to think it necessary that he needed his hand held. He could handle himself. 

“It’s not really an intervention,” Cora mumbled. “I just really want food.”

“Good show of support,” Derek joked. Laura got out beef tips and skewers. She was planning on making kebabs. 

“Have a hangover this morning?” Laura asked. Derek lifted an eyebrow at her. “What?”

“I was fine,” Derek said through gritted teeth. “And I don’t need you harping at me about drinking and depression.”

“So you _are_ depressed?” Laura asked him seriously. Derek took his time before he answered her, knowing that a brush off of his emotions wouldn’t help the situation. 

“No, I’m not.” 

“Okay,” Laura said with a small smile. “We’re watching _The Fifth Element_ and eating kebabs,” she said. “You’re in charge of the side dish.” Derek looked at his chopped vegetables and thought about it. He decided to make orzo. 

Cora spent the her time texting as Derek and Laura prepared the food. 

“Who are you texting so diligently?” Laura asked with a smirk. Derek looked up from the stove, watching Cora shrug evasively. Laura had just put the kebabs in the oven, wrapped in tin foil to cook, so she had nothing better to do than pry into her siblings’ personal lives. 

“My neighbors.” 

“Boys?” Laura asked, waggling her eyebrows. Cora rolled her eyes but nodded her head. “Do tell.” 

“Well one of them has dirty blond hair, curly with a chiseled jaw that could cut glass. He is quiet but really snarky,” Cora said by way of describing Isaac. “Then the other is dark haired, has the cutest little button nose, basically has a constellation of moles on his face and neck. They are both adorable.” Derek couldn’t help but think of Stiles at the mention of moles. They covered his body and Derek wished he could run his tongue over each and every one of them. He sighed audibly. 

When Derek looked up, both of his sisters were watching him. 

“Sorry,” He said. 

“Who has you down?” Cora asked, knowing him so well. Derek shook his head. He wasn’t admitting to them about seeing an escort, about falling for him. His stomach clenched at the thought. 

“There’s no one,” Derek managed to say evenly, as if it was true. Laura and Cora exchanged glances. “It doesn’t matter,” he admitted. “I’m not talking about it.”

“So there _is_ someone,” Laura pointed out. “Because not talking about it means there is something to talk about.”

“Don’t,” Derek hissed. His siblings could be infuriating. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, then let it out. He thought about the death of his family, about how they were all he had left now, about Kate’s venomous touch and deceiving smile, about Jen sobbing on the floor begging Derek to let her go. 

They ate to the sound of _The Fifth Element_ playing in the background. All three of them were on the couch with Derek in the middle. Eventually, Cora situated herself so that her head was on the armrest and her legs draped across Derek’s thighs, her toes buried beneath Laura’s. 

“Can I take the leftovers?” Cora asked. Derek shrugged as he looked at Laura. 

“Why, want to feed your boytoys?” Laura asked. Cora stuck her tongue out at her sister. 

“Maybe.”

“Do what you want,” Derek said. “I’ll get everything ready to go.” He got up off the couch, happy to do something with his hands. He didn’t like just sitting there, it gave him time to think. “There isn’t really much here for two people,” Derek said aloud as he put what was left of the food in tupperware containers. 

“It’s fine,” Laura said with a wave of her hand as she and Cora both stretched out across the couch in opposite directions. “I’m sure just getting a home cooked meal would have them both running to Cora for more.” Derek snorted. 

“Hmm, I didn’t even think of it like that,” Cora mused. “Besides, we’re just friends.”

“Just friends whom you haven’t stopped texting with all night?” 

“I think I’ll make them something else,” Derek said mostly to himself. He was looking in his fridge. 

“You don’t need to-” Cora began to say. 

“I want to,” Derek cut in. “I want something to do.” 

Cora ended up leaving with three containers of food for her neighbors. She and Laura both left together after doing the dishes, leaving Derek alone again. Only now he didn’t really want to be. He grabbed a book and curled up on the couch, reading until he passed out. 

His weekend was quiet. He made no plans, only had to work. Cora texted him early on Saturday telling him that her neighbors devoured his food and didn’t stop singing his praises. Derek responded with _it was nothing_. It was the only contact he had with his family for the entire weekend. He kept checking his email, staring at Stiles’ answer. He wanted to call, to make an appointment, but he was stopping himself. It would only get harder the more he saw Stiles. 

“It’s just sex,” Derek told himself. “You only think you like him because he is good at his job.” Derek knows how escorts work. It’s all about the fake emotions, feigning being turned on and liking the client. If Stiles was standoffish, then he wouldn’t have a penthouse. He made people feel good, he made them come for a living. Derek sighed as he pulled out his phone and dialed Stiles’ office number. He let it ring two times before hanging up. 

He couldn’t do it. 

Derek did two hundred push-ups before he got his phone out again. It rang once, and he was about to hang up when Stiles answered. 

“Stiles Stilinski,” his voice said over the receiver. Derek breathed in and out, unable to say anything. The phone shifted, making a noise from the other side as Stiles let out a small sigh. “Anyone there?” 

“Yes,” Derek made himself say. “Sorry.”

“Derek?” Stiles asked. Derek’s voice caught in his throat because _Stiles knew his voice_. He cleared it as he nodded his head despite the fact that Stiles couldn’t see him. “Are you calling because-”

“I wanted to make an appointment,” Derek cut him off. Stiles laughed, which made Derek’s stomach do flips. 

“Of course, let me just...” There was some shuffling around as Stiles got his iPad. “Ow, fuck,” Stiles whispered to himself. 

“Are you okay?” Derek asked him. Stiles hissed, then sighed as if he sat down. 

“Stubbed my toe, completely professional, no big deal.” Derek couldn’t help but smile at him. For the first time since Thursday, he felt at ease. “Let me pull up my calendar and we will get you sorted out.” 

“Okay,” Derek said. Stiles hummed a tune, maybe something that was playing where he was, as he waited. 

“Okay, when would you like to see me?” Stiles asked. Derek bit his lip as he ran a hand over his face. The way Stiles said it, like it was nothing, the fact that he was making an appointment to fuck an escort. 

“When are your openings?” Derek countered. 

“You work early, right?” Stiles asked. Derek was surprised that Stiles remembered him saying that. 

“Yes, but it doesn’t matter,” Derek found himself saying. He regretted it immediately. 

“Well, I don’t have many openings this week,” Stiles admitted with a sigh. “Wednesday? How about Wednesday evening.”

“What time?” Derek asked. 

“What time is good for you?” 

“You’re the one with the schedule, Stiles.” Stiles didn’t answer him for a moment. 

“My Wednesday is pretty free.” 

“Would having dinner with you-”

“We can do that,” Stiles interrupted Derek before he could say anything more, before he made it awkward. “Is that all you wanted to do?” 

“... No,” Derek said with a sigh. “I want all of you.” Derek held his breath as he waited for a response from Stiles. He wasn’t sure if the silence was elongated in his head or if it really did span for more than a normal amount of time. 

“Okay,” Stiles said, barely audible. “Dinner at 7, and then a session at the penthouse. You will get an email confirmation of the appointment.” 

“Thanks,” Derek said. 

“See you then,” Stiles said before he hung up. Derek felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. Perhaps he should have made the appointment when Stiles had asked him, instead of denying himself what he really wanted. Next time, he wouldn’t cause himself unnecessary stress. 

On Monday night, around nine, Derek got a call from Boyd. 

“I have a favor to ask,” Boyd said with a sigh. Derek was in the middle of watching a football game that he had no allegiances to with a beer in his hand. 

“Sure thing,” Derek said as he muted the TV. 

“I know sometimes you moonlight for my company...”

“Right, as a personal security guard.”

“Exactly. Well, something came up and we need someone to do this favor for a friend of mine, but it needs to be discreet.”

“Okay,” Derek said, thoroughly confused. “When is it?”

“Tomorrow afternoon, after you get off work.”

“What is the job? Why is it under the table?”

“Look, Derek, this guy is a friend of mine, and he, uh, he’s an escort.” Derek’s eyes widened, his mind shooting towards Stiles. “He has a gig tomorrow that deals with a new BDSM type and he doesn’t feel comfortable being his sub, you know? At first? It’s only to make sure. I would do it, but like I said, he is my friend and I’d rather not know what he sounds like-”

“I got it,” Derek said, cutting Boyd off. “I’m not sure, though-”

“It pays five hundred up front,” Boyd interrupted. “All you have to do is wait outside and come in if you hear the safeword. That’s all.”

“Okay,” Derek gave in. He needed the money to pay Stiles again, anyway. “What time and where?”

“Noon, at W New York-”

“What?” Derek asked, wide-eyed. W New York? That was Stiles’ hotel. Derek was going to be Stiles’ _bodyguard_?

“It’s the penthouse at W New York,” Boyd said slowly. “His name is Stiles, if you could get there at 11:30 to get acquainted and paid, I’m sure he would appreciate it.”

“Sure,” Derek said, delayed. 

“You don’t have many clients on Tuesdays, right? I couldn’t remember.”

“Right,” Derek said as he nodded his head, still in shock. “I only work in the mornings on Tuesdays.” 

“I’ll let his assistant know I found someone, she was beginning to panic. I owe you, man,” Boyd told him, relief flooding his voice. “I’ll buy you a bottle of Jack in return.”

“Make it two,” Derek grumbled as he hung up. He was so fucked. 

The next day, Derek paced back and forth in front of Stiles’ door for ten minutes before knocking. He knew the sound well, now, of Stiles making his way to the door. Usually he was met with a smile, but this time it was pure shock. 

“Derek, what are you... our session is tomorrow.” Stiles looked worried, Derek felt like this was a horrible, horrible idea. 

“I’m your private security,” Derek managed to get out. Stiles’ jaw dropped, his head barely shaking, but Derek saw it nonetheless. Stiles closed his mouth, then opened the door so that Derek could come in. Stiles was dressed in his normal ensemble, dress pants and a button up shirt. Derek was wearing a suit, charcoal grey. Stiles raking his hand through his hair as they stood there in the middle of the penthouse, silent. 

“I was not expecting you,” Stiles admitted, his voice pleading. 

“Boyd called me last night, asking for a favor.”

“You know Boyd?” Stiles asked, surprised. Derek nodded. 

“If this is a problem, I can leav-”

“No,” Stiles said, reaching a hand out, but dropping it to his side before he touched Derek. “No, it isn’t a problem.” Stiles gave him a small smile, then let it fall to his side. “Did Boyd explain why I need you?” 

“He said you had a new client that you were unsure about.”

“Right,” Stiles nodded. “I usually don’t need security, but for BDSM clients I hire someone for the first session in case-”

“They don’t honor your safeword,” Derek said. Stiles nodded, his cheeks tinged pink. It was the first time he ever saw Stiles blush. Stiles cleared his throat, then looked at Derek. 

“Your payment upfront,” Stiles said as he brought a roll of bills out of his pocket. Derek took it from him, his fingers lingering over Stiles’ for a moment before they both dropped their hands. “How this is going to happen,” Stiles began to say as he turned away from Derek. Derek wondered what was going on in Stiles’ head, what he thought about Derek being the one to protect him, just in case. With any luck Derek wouldn’t even have to do anything. “Is that he will arrive, we will exchange pleasantries and I will introduce you both, then he and I will go into the bedroom with the french doors shut,” Stiles explained, his eyes catching Derek’s. “Are you sure you are okay with doing this?” Stiles asked him. “Because in our negotiations he and I discussed what he wants, and-”

“It’s fine,” Derek cut him off. Stiles didn’t break eye contact with Derek as he held his breath for a moment, thinking. 

“Our relationship is purely professional,” Stiles said, his voice completely void of emotion. “I’m paying you, now, to burst into that room if he steps out of line.” Mentioning that their relationship was nothing but professional felt like a punch to the gut, but Derek knew deep down that there couldn’t be anything more between them. He paid Stiles to fuck him, to pretend care. Now, Stiles was going to pay him to protect him. That was all. Derek nodded his head in understanding. “He and I have a safeword, ‘pineapple’, that I will use if I want the scene to end.” Stiles took a step closer to Derek, his eyes dropping to Derek’s mouth as he continued on. “I want us to have a safeword as well, in case he doesn’t listen.” 

“Why do you think he won’t listen?” Derek asked. Stiles bit his lip, giving Derek a hint of a smile. 

“Some people think that, because they pay me, that they don’t have to listen to me while doing a scene. They are looking for something rough, dangerous. Sometimes they are looking for someone to hurt. That isn’t what BDSM is about,” Stiles said in a whisper. “Maybe it is better that you are my bodyguard,” he added. 

“Why do you say that?” Derek asked. “About me, I mean.” 

“Because I know how strong you are,” Stiles said with a smirk, playing off the situation. “Anyway,” Stiles said as he rolled up his shirt sleeves. If Derek knew Stiles better, he might say that he was doing it out of worry. “The normal ‘green’, ‘yellow, and ‘red’ are going to be used, as well as ‘pineapple’’. If I say ‘no’, or ‘stop’, those will be within the scene-”

“I understand,” Derek said. His heart was beginning to beat faster as he thought about Stiles with another john, completely powerless and screaming out for them to stop. “I won’t break down the door if you say to stop, or plead that it is too much. Only if you say ‘pineapple’.”

“Right,” Stiles nodded. “I want ours to be a phrase. ‘You’re bananas’.” Derek lifted an eyebrow at him. “What? ‘Banana’ is the most commonly used safeword, seriously.” 

“I can believe it.” 

“Do you have any questions?” Stiles asked. 

“How often have you done this?” Derek inquired. 

“A BDSM scene?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded. “I have done my fair share,” Stiles admitted. “As long as the john remains within the guidelines we set up prior, I have no problem with the scenes.” Derek realized then, that he knew next to nothing about Stiles as a person. He didn’t know what he liked and disliked, if he preferred giving or receiving, if he drank Coke or Pepsi. He wanted to know these things, though, and that scared him considering the fact that he was about to listen in on Stiles and a john fuck. “Have you?” Stiles asked, bringing Derek out of his revelry. 

“What?” Derek asked, shaking his head. “No, I haven’t, actually.” 

“Hmm,” Stiles hummed. “Maybe it is something you could consider in the future.” 

“Maybe,” Derek said as he thought about Stiles having control over him. “Are you sure-” Derek was interrupted by a knock at the door. Stiles jumped a little, not expecting it. 

“I’m sure,” Stiles told him as he made his way to the door. “Just remember ‘You’re bananas’, or if he doesn’t stop if I say ‘red’.”

“Okay,” Derek nodded. He felt so lost, numb to the fact that he was going to be listening to Stiles become undone by someone else. The john, Deucalion, looked like a smug asshole as he walked into the penthouse. He had a duffel bag with him and Derek couldn’t help but feel himself glaring at it. 

“Stiles, good to see you again,” Deucalion said as his eyes raked over Stiles’ body. Then he looked to Derek, his eyes narrowing slightly. 

“Deucalion, this is Hale, he is going to be here as per our agreement.” 

“Of course,” Deucalion murmured. “I am sure there will be nothing to worry about, though.” Derek didn’t like the inflection that was in Deucalion’s voice, but Stiles seemed at ease with the situation. “Will Hale be joining us in the room?” Deucalion asked Derek, not Stiles. Stiles bit his lip, his eyes widening for a second. 

“Only if you plan on making it so he can’t speak,” Derek said. Deucalion smirked at him. “I need to be able to hear his safeword.” 

“Our contract states that he is not to be gagged,” Deucalion told him. “Per his request.” 

“Then I will remain out here,” Derek said plainly. He found it strange that Deucalion spoke to him and not to Stiles about it. 

“Perfect,” Deucalion said, turning towards Stiles. “Shall we?” Stiles nodded, grabbing his iPad before taking a step towards the bedroom. 

“First, payment,” Stiles insisted. “I may not be coherent enough afterwards.” At that, Deucalion smiled. Derek felt himself shiver. He hooked his hands behind his back to keep from moving, though. 

“Of course,” Deucalion said as he handed Stiles his card. Derek watched as Stiles swiped it, then handed it back. He set his iPad down on the coffee table by where Derek stood. Deucalion walked into the bedroom, putting the duffel bag on the bed. Stiles made eye contact, his facial expression completely unreadable as he shut the doors, leaving Derek alone in the main room. He could hear muffled words and movement, but nothing stood out to him. 

It started with the sound of a smack, then a muffled scream. It was rhythmic, almost timed. Derek closed his eyes and concentrated on his own breathing as he heard Stiles let out a whimper, than a groan after a decidedly loud clap. 

“Do you like that?” Derek heard Deucalion ask. Stiles mumbled something that Derek supposed pleased Deucalion because he heard laughter and then another smack. He was spanking Stiles. Goosebumps covered Derek’s flesh as the noises stopped. “You look good like this,” Deucalion said loud enough for Derek to hear. “What is your color?” 

“Green,” Stiles replied loudly so that Derek could hear him. It was the first time since the scene started that Stiles was audible to Derek. Derek relaxed slightly, hearing that Stiles was good to go, that the scene wasn’t anything to be feared. 

“Good,” Deucalion said, then was quiet for some time. Whatever they were doing, it wasn’t loud. Until Deucalion spoke once more. “That’s right, boy, eat that ass.” Derek’s mouth was dry as he listened in, could hear Deucalion moaning. Stiles was eating him out. “Get in there deep, just like that.” 

Stiles let out a muffled noise, then gasped. “Color?” Deucalion asked him once more. 

“Green.”

Derek lost track of time, his mind numb and his ears full of the sounds of sex, of Stiles’ screams that were a mixture of both pleasure and pain. It wasn’t until he could hear Stiles panting loudly, moaning at every seeming movement that Deucalion was making, that heard the word _yellow_ be muttered. Derek stood up, ready to burst through the door if Stiles uttered the words. He waited for them, but they didn’t come. Derek sat back down, putting his head in his hands as he leaned in to listen. Stiles’ noises were constant, filling Derek’s head as Deucalion fucked him. He knew that’s what was happening by the rhythmic pounding, knew it was rough and ravaging by Stiles’ choked sobs. 

“Please, stop,” Stiles called out. Derek had to remind himself that it was part of the scene, that Stiles didn’t mean it, that he didn’t actually want it. “Yellow.” Or maybe he was being pushed to the edge of his boundaries, maybe-

“You can take it, I’m paying you for this, and I am going to fuck you for all you’re worth.” Derek bristled at Deucalion’s words, standing up immediately as the sound of skin smacking against skin echoed across the penthouse. “Let’s see how loud I can make you scream.” Stiles spoke, too quiet for Derek to hear over his and Deucalion’s moans. Stiles thrashed, his moans muted somehow. It worried Derek that they were dulled, like maybe his face was pressed into a pillow. Worry flooded through him, his hand on the doorknob, wishing that he could hear better, that he could see if Stiles was alright. 

And then Derek heard Stiles sobbing, heard Deucalion grunting. Something within him snapped and he opened the door. Stiles’ mouth was covered by Deucalion’s hand, his shirt stuffed in it as tears streamed down his face. Derek grabbed hold of Deucalion, pulling him off of Stiles. 

“He said no gagging!” Derek yelled. “‘Red’, fucker. How dare you!” Derek hissed. Stiles was bound, unable to do anything but take whatever Deucalion gave him. He hadn’t been able to stop him from gagging him. Derek was only sorry he hadn’t interfered faster. 

“I am paying him to fuck him,” Deucalion raged. “He is just a whore-”

“You are done _fucking him_ ,” Derek spat, shoving Deucalion further away from Stiles. “He is a human being and you broke your contract. Get the fuck out of here.” Deucalion began gathering his clothes as Derek turned to Stiles, carefully taking the shirt out of his mouth. As soon as he did, Stiles gasped for air. “I’m sorry,” Derek said as he ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair. “I didn’t hear-”

“Wait,” Stiles said, his voice completely shot. “Until he is gone.” Stiles shut his eyes as he let the tears fall. Derek turned his gaze back to Deucalion, his eyes narrowing. 

“I paid for three hours-”

“You paid for what you got,” Derek said, approaching Deucalion once more. “Get out.” 

“My rope-”

“His assistant will send you them in the mail, along with a bill for breach of contract,” Derek growled. “I’ll show you to the fucking door.” 

Derek all but threw Deucalion out, shut the door, then locked it with the deadbolt. He practically ran back into the bedroom to Stiles. 

“Stiles,” Derek breathed out. He moved to touch him, but was unsure if Stiles wanted that or not. Stiles slowly opened his eyes, his lips lifting into the smallest of smiles as his eyes shut again from fatigue. “What do you need me to do first? I don’t... I don’t know what I should do.”

“Untie me slowly,” Stiles mumbled. “Carefully, please.” His voice quivered, his body shaking. Derek undid the knots that bound Stiles. As soon as the ropes loosened, Stiles whimpered, his limbs finally relaxing. His hands had been tied behind his back, and he had been lying on his stomach. He was breathing harshly, his eyes still closed. “Water.” 

Derek got him water, with a straw he found in a drawer. He put it up to Stiles’ lips, letting Stiles take his time drinking it. When he finished the glass, Derek got him more. When he returned, Stiles had rolled over onto his back and had thrown a sheet over himself. He had his hands on his chest, his fingers flexing as he tried to get the blood flowing in them. 

“Do you need food? A shower?” Derek asked. Stiles shook his head, his eyes on Derek. “What can I do?” 

“You don’t need to stay,” Stiles whispered. “You did what I paid you to do.” His voice was weak, his head tilted to the side as he looked up at Derek. He sounded so unlike himself that Derek couldn’t move. 

“I’m not leaving you like this,” Derek said, concerned. “You need aftercare, you need someone-”

“I don’t _need_ anyone, Derek.” Derek took a step back from Stiles, his words from before echoing in his mind. _Our relationship is professional_. “I can take care of myself.”

“What if I wasn’t here, then?” Derek asked, his voice raised. Stiles flinched. “What if there wa no one here to pull him off of you?”

“Do you think that was the first time someone was rough with me?” Stiles asked as he used his elbows to push himself up into more of a sitting position. “That I-”

“You couldn’t stop him, Stiles,” Derek said as he closed the distance between them. “He made it so that you couldn’t call out for help. I was here to protect you and he-” Derek stopped, making himself take a deep breath. “What he did was not okay.”

“I know that,” Stiles said, all fight left in him gone. “Shit,” he said as he fell back against the bed. “I need to call Allison. I need to eat. I need to shower.”

“I can call Allison for you,” Derek said. “I can order room service while you shower.” Stiles looked up at him. Derek was afraid for a second that Stiles was going to tell him to leave, that he didn’t need him anymore. Instead Stiles nodded his head. 

“Okay,” he said. “I’m... my phone is on the kitchen counter. She is number one on speed dial. I need something with a lot of protein.”

“Do you need help to the shower?” Derek asked seriously. Stiles managed to smile at him, which broke Derek’s heart a little, knowing that the smile was fake, that Stiles was actually hurting. 

“I can handle it.” 

Derek left Stiles to it. As soon as he heard the shower going, he called Allison from Stiles’ phone. 

“Hey, shouldn’t you be tied up right about now?” She teased in answer. Derek didn’t know what to say about her flippancy about Stiles’ job, but he assumed their lightheartedness was common occurrence. 

“This is Derek Hale,” Derek told her. 

“Derek? What are you doing with Stiles’ phone? Where is he? What are you doing there?” She asked so quickly that Derek couldn’t get a word in edgewise. 

“Boyd called me.” Derek paused. “I was his bodyguard.”

“Oh, no,” Allison whispered. “Is he... is he okay?” Derek sighed as he ran a hand over his face. 

“I don’t know, he won’t tell me. I had to kick Deucalion out. I don’t know if you want details or not. He is in the shower.”

“Is he bleeding? Is there bruising?” Allison asked. Derek’s stomach dropped, he hadn’t even checked. He walked into the bedroom, throwing the sheets up to see. No blood. He let out a sigh of relief. “No blood.” 

“Okay. Don’t let him go home. I’m coming there to pick him up. He is going to want to shut you out, but don’t let him. He needs to be comforted, he wants it but there is no way he is going to ask you. If you don’t feel comfortable doing that, then leave it to me when I get there.”

“You want me to... sure,” Derek said as he heard the shower stop. “I can do that.” 

“Tell him I am on my way,” she said before hanging up. Derek used the hotel phone to order food, chicken with macaroni and cheese -- comfort food. Something he would want to eat. 

Stiles emerged from the bedroom wearing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. His hair was dripping wet and his arms were crossed, holding onto his elbows. Derek wanted to wrap him in his arms, but he wouldn’t do it without consent. 

“I ordered you mac n’ cheese with chicken,” Derek blurted out. Stiles gave him a tired smile as he curled up on the couch. “Allison is on her way here.” At that, Stiles’ eyes widened. 

“She what?” 

“She told me she was coming to get you, and not to let you leave.” 

“Did you tell her I was fine?” Stiles asked. “That I’m alright?”

“You’re not fine, though, are you?” Derek asked. “Honestly.”

“I will be fine,” Stiles answered. “I just need sleep and eat something.” And comfort, Derek wanted to say. He sat down on the couch next to Stiles, waited for Stiles to push him away. Instead, Stiles leaned against Derek, his head resting against his shoulder. Derek put his hand on his own thigh, palm up, offering it to Stiles. Stiles hesitated, then took it. He sighed, pressing closer. Derek wanted to wrap his arm around Stiles, to protect him, but he supposed that this would be enough. Stiles was quiet as they both sat there with their fingers intertwined. 

Stiles jumped when there was a knock at the door. Derek was hesitant to get up, to leave Stiles’ side but he did so anyway. As soon as he let go of Stiles’ hand, Stiles wrapped his own arms around himself, his head leaning against the back of the couch. It was room service at the door. Derek brought Stiles the tray of food, setting it down in front of him. 

“That looks good,” Stiles said as he sat up straighter. Derek thought he looked smaller than he usually did, like he was trying to take up the least amount of space possible. “Thanks for ordering it.”

“No problem,” Derek told him. He watched Stiles eat it slowly. Stiles turned on the TV so they weren’t sitting in silence. When he was done eating, he leaned back against Derek again. This time, Derek put his arm around Stiles, bringing him in close as his other hand took Stiles’ hand, linking their fingers. 

“Thank you,” Stiles told him, his voice barely audible. “For staying.” 

“I had no intention of leaving you like that.” 

Stiles was quiet after that, his eyes distant as they watched TV. Allison walked in without knocking, a key in her hand. As soon as she shut the door, Stiles untangled himself from Derek, meeting her halfway across the room. They wrapped their arms around each other, Stiles burying his face against her shoulder as his own started shaking. He let her comfort him. Derek stood up slowly, meeting her eyes as one of her hands rubbed Stiles’ back, the other caressing the nape of his neck. 

“ _Thank you_ ,” she mouthed to him. Derek nodded his head. It wasn’t a problem. He was glad he was there to stop it from continuing. If only he had realized what was happening sooner, though. He shouldn’t have hesitated. He pointed towards the door without a word. Allison nodded her head that he should go. Resigned, Derek walked towards the door. 

“Wait,” he heard Stiles call out. Before he knew it, Stiles had his fist in Derek’s jacket, stilling him just as he reached for the door. 

“Do you still... are we still on for tomorrow?” Stiles asked. Derek’s eyes widened, his head shaking. He didn’t know how to respond, he didn’t know how to gage the look in Stiles’ eyes. 

“You have an appointment tomorrow?” Allison asked, confused. Stiles didn’t look at Allison, his eyes not leaving Derek as he waited for an answer. 

“That is up to you,” Derek said. “Completely up to you.” Stiles bit his lip, his grip on Derek’s jacket not letting up. 

“I do want it.” 

“Okay then,” Derek said as evenly as he possibly could. “Dinner at 7.” Stiles nodded his head, then let his hand drop.

As Derek walked towards the subway, towards home, and he couldn’t wrap his mind around what had just happened. What Stiles had gone through, if it were him he wouldn’t want to be anywhere near a john. And yet, Stiles wanted to keep his appointment with Derek. He wasn’t sure what to think about the entire situation, but he did know one thing: he would not be fucking Stiles at said appointment. That much he could promise himself. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **About the added tag:** the noncon happens between stiles and deucalion during their session. deucalion does not honor the safeword and essentially breaks his contract by ignoring stiles' use of said safeword. the scene is vaguely written, and is from Derek's POV. Please don't read if it could be triggering to you.  <3


	5. Chapter 5

Stiles stood in the middle of his penthouse, his gaze not leaving the door after Derek left. He felt numb all over, and he hated it. He didn’t like how weak he felt, helpless. It wasn’t something he was used to feeling and he wished it would stop.

Allison’s hand on his shoulder brought him back to reality.

“Stiles”, she said, urging him to look at her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No,” Stiles told her truthfully. He didn’t want to talk about any of it. “Just make sure I never see him again.”

“I can do that,” Allison nodded as her thumb caressed his shoulderblade. “Want me to take you home?” Stiles looked at his bed, the sheets rumpled, the ropes laying where Derek had tossed them. 

“I do.” He didn’t want to be in the penthouse any longer than he had to. He watched her gather his things, handing him his coat and scarf, putting his shoes in front of him. He couldn’t remember the last time he had gone on the subway in sweats, but he didn’t care.

Once on a train headed towards Greenwich, Allison took his hand in hers.

“Why do you have an appointment with Derek tomorrow?” She asked him.

“Hmm?” He asked. He hadn’t been paying attention, his mind elsewhere, mostly on Deucalion. His hands binding Stiles’, his breath on the back of his neck, fingernails digging into his skin leaving bruises. Stiles shut his eyes, trying to remember to breathe. “Yes, I have a session with Derek tomorrow.” Stiles looked down at her hand in his, remembering he and Derek’s fingers intertwined. He had felt safe for that short time, protected. 

“Wednesdays are your day off.”

“I know,” Stiles said. He took his hand from hers, shoving both of his into his coat pockets. He sighed as he felt her gaze on him. “I made it because he... he left our last session without making one and...”

“So when he called and you had no openings, you gave him one.”

“Yes,” Stiles whispered, swallowing. “I shouldn’t have done it. I need tomorrow, but I want to see him.”

“You _want_ to see him?”

Stiles had said too much. The look on Allison’s face said everything, she knew what he meant by that.

“Stiles. if you have feelings for him... He just saved you. Your relationship is compromised.”

“I know that,” Stiles snapped. “I’m dealing with it.”

“Dealing with it how?” She asked, her voice full of concern for him. Stiles leaned forward, putting his head in his hands. He shook his head back and forth.

“I can handle it. I’m not denying him appointments just because I can’t get a handle on my own emotions.”

“That is exactly why you should, though.”

“He isn’t the one that hurt me,” Stiles pointed out.

“Not tonight, but if you fall for him, he will hurt you.”

“Falling for him? You think that, what? He fucked me and now I love him?”

“I didn’t say that,” Allison told him, her voice calm. “I just don’t want you to fall for your own game. How many people have you led to believe you enjoyed yourself?”

“I do enjoy myself,” Stiles said. “A lot, usually. Tonight notwithstanding, of course. Tonight was something that will _not_ happen again.”

“Good,” Allison said, relieved. “Because I do not want that phone call again. You scared me, you know that right? I didn’t want you to take that job.”

“I know,” Stiles sighed. “I don’t think I will be taking on any more new clients right now.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Allison said with a smile. Stiles gave her one back.

When they got to his apartment he was glad to find it empty. He walked straight to his room, falling onto his bed despite the early hour. It wasn’t even four in the afternoon. In the safety of his own home, Stiles buried his face into his pillow, holding onto it for dear life. Allison was still in the apartment, in the kitchen by the sounds that she was making. Stiles’ body throbbed, it ached. Exhaustion took him over and he slept.

The smell of food and hushed voices woke him up hours later. Stiles sat up, realizing he had fallen asleep in his coat and scarf. He took them off, replacing it with his old NYU hoodie that he rarely wore anymore. When he walked out into the living room, he wasn’t at all surprised to find Allison, Scott, Isaac, and Cora. Half of him wanted to turn right back into his room, the other half of him didn’t want to be alone.

“What’s going on?” Stiles asked as he ran his fingers through his hair, looking back and forth. 

“We finally met your roommate,” Scott said with an obvious smile. Stiles eyed him, unhappy that Allison brought Scott into this mess. He still thought about turning right back around and going into his room. “And your neighbor.”

Cora gave Stiles a grin that he couldn’t help but return. 

“It was great meeting you two, but I have a family dinner to get to,” Cora said, talking to Scott and Allison. “I’m just going to give Stiles a hug then head out.” Stiles was surprised at her sudden affection, her arms around him, face buried into his shoulder. He looked to Allison, who nodded in encouragement for him to hug her back. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his head against hers as he closed his eyes. It felt good to be held. 

“I’ll be back later. We’ll watch a movie and cuddle.”

“What did Allison tell you?” Stiles asked her, worry apparent in his voice. Cora looked up at him, concern playing across her face. 

“Nothing, just that you had a bad day. I did, too, I had two exams and ugh. I need some cuddle time and Isaac doesn’t like gratuitous touching, do you Isaac?” Cora asked, her attention turning towards Isaac who shrugged his agreement. 

“She clings to you like a monkey.” Stiles cracked a grin at Isaac’s acceptance of Cora’s quirks. Stiles squeezed his arms, tightening his grip around her before he let go. 

“Movie and cuddling later, you got it.” Cora kissed him lightly on the cheek, then walked towards the door, punching Isaac in the arm before she left. As soon as she was gone, Allison and Scott both looked at Stiles with their jaws dropped. 

“What?” Stiles asked. 

“Is there something going on-”

“No,” Stiles said, cutting Scott off. “Absolutely not. Isaac?” Stiles said, begging for Isaac’s help on this one. Isaac gave him an evil grin. Stiles flipped him off. 

“We’re friends.”

“Well seeing you with friends is amazing,” Allison said with sincerity. “Seriously.” 

“Does he not have a lot of friends?” Isaac asked. Stiles waited for Allison’s reply. 

“He has a few. It’s hard to have friends when he is so damned busy all the time,” she deflected. “Being a workaholic has its disadvantages.” Isaac bought it, because technically it was true. Stiles was a workaholic in a way. 

“Well I guess it is good he has Cora and me, then, as friends I mean,” Isaac said as he took out his phone. “I am headed out,” he told Stiles. “Don’t wait up.” 

“I won’t,” Stiles called out as Isaac said his goodbyes. As soon as he was gone, Scott’s happy facade fell away. 

“Allison told me what happened,” Scott said. Stiles felt like he was being reprimanded by the tone of Scott’s voice, but then his best friend had him locked tight in a hug. “I wish you wouldn’t get into those situations. You could have-”

“I am okay,” Stiles reassured him. “I wasn’t ‘red’ for long.”

“But still,” Scott said as he stepped back. “Thank god someone showed up to help you.” 

“Boyd wasn’t going to let me down,” Stiles mumbled. “But it won’t happen again.”

“No more scenes like that?” Scott asked. 

“Right,” Stiles said with a nod. “No more, not with anyone new.”

“But with someone you’ve already-”

“I am not stopping what I do,” Stiles said, putting his foot down. “Just because some asshole didn’t stop when I said my safeword-”

“Stiles,” Allison said, motioning him to stop. It was only then that Stiles realized that he was hyperventilating, his hands fisted, shaking. “No one is saying you shouldn’t have the business, okay? We just want you to be happy.” 

“I am happy,” Stiles told them, and himself. “I fuck people for money, and sometimes that means doing things I don’t want. We all have bad days at work, today was one of those days for me. Tomorrow will be different. I just need some time alone.” 

“Do you want us to go?” Scott asked. Stiles deflated. 

“No... I don’t know. I want to shower again,” he said as he wrapped his arms around himself. “I feel disgusting.” 

“I understand,” Allison said. “Come on, Scott, let’s let him wash the creep off of him.” Stiles gave them both hugs and then they left. He was alone, at last, but only now he didn’t want it. He wanted to run out after them and call them back, but he didn’t. Instead, he went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. 

He scrubbed himself until his skin was red, raw, and stinging. He sat in the shower, his knees pulled up against him, letting the water beat down against his back. He stayed there until the water ran cold. When he was done he put his sweats back on, and his hoodie, then grabbed his iPad from his bag and sat down on the couch, checking emails and phone messages. He was curled up on the couch with his toes tucked up underneath him when Cora knocked on the door hours later. 

“I come bearing gifts of food,” She said, holding up a tin foil wrapped something or other. She handed it over as she walked past him. “My brother made too much again. I figured you could use some home-cooked amazingness.”

“Thanks,” Stiles muttered as he walked into the kitchen, opening the tin foil. Inside was what looked like eggplant parmesan, but he wasn’t sure. He preheated the oven to reheat it. Cora was already making herself comfortable on the couch, turning on the TV and searching through the guide to find something to watch. 

“Oh, you have all the movie channels. I think I will just move in over here.” 

“I barely even touch the TV,” Stiles admitted as he slid the food, tin foil and all, into the oven then joined her on the couch. She opened her arms for him, immediately resting her head on his shoulder. “You okay?” Stiles asked her, his fingers raking through her hair gently. She smelled familiar to him, but he couldn’t place it for the life of him. 

“Yeah, it’s just tough when people around me have bad days you know? First you, then my brother. Everyone had a shit day.” 

“Hmm,” Stiles hummed in understanding. “When things go wrong, they really fucking go wrong.”

“So true,” Cora pouted. “So I think that means we need to watch _Hot Fuzz_. Please tell me you own it.”

“I do,” Stiles said, smiling. “And _Shaun of the Dead_.” 

“Maybe we can marathon them,” She said as Stiles got up to find his copy of it. He started the movie then got his food out of the oven, sliding it onto a plate. He moaned at the first bite. It was eggplant parmesan. “D’s great right? I told him he should be a cook full time but he won’t do it.”

“Why not?” Stiles asked. “This is amazing.”

“Our dad was one,” Cora said with a shrug. “He only cooks for our family.” 

“Well, I’d eat whatever he made all the time. Personal cook, anyone?” Stiles joked. Cora nodded her head in agreement. “That was exactly what I needed.”

“Good, I’m glad. I hated seeing you so upset earlier,” Cora told him. Stiles closed his eyes, trying not to think about being shoved against the bed, Deucalion gagging his mouth with his own shirt. “I should be asking you if you are the one that is okay.”

“I’m fine,” Stiles murmured as he opened his eyes. “Sometimes work is harder than it should be.” 

“Want to talk about it?” She asked him. Stiles shook his head, pulling her in close. She fit against him easily, her hand resting on his chest as they both turned their attention to the movie. It felt good to be held by someone who wasn’t paying him for it. They both fell asleep on the couch, with Cora ending up laying on top of Stiles, halfway tucked into the couch against the cushions. Stiles stirred at the sound of Isaac opening the front door, the light from the hallway brightening the room. 

“What time is it?” Stiles asked. He tried to move but Cora held him in place. 

“Two,” Isaac whispered as he walked towards them. “You want help getting her home?” Stiles nodded, then waited for Isaac to help him get Cora off of him. She stirred, her face contorting with displeasure at being moved. Stiles managed to stand up, hauling her to her feet. 

“Time for bed,” Stiles said as Cora rubbed at her eyes. 

“Ugh,” Cora said in answer. “My bed is so far.”

“Want to crash here?” Stiles asked her. Cora sat back down on the couch, then fell over gracelessly, her face buried in a throw pillow. “I will take that as a yes.” Isaac grabbed a blanket from his room, draping it over her. “Night, Cora.” He got a grunt in response as she shifted, making herself more comfortable. 

He gave Isaac a wave goodnight, then fell into his own bed. He dreamed, which was rare for him. Or rather, remembering dreams was rare. This time, though, he was aware that he was dreaming. He felt claustrophobic, like the walls were coming in on him as he clutched at his shirt, trying to breathe in enough air. Crouched on the ground, he gasped as he felt the sting of a switch against his back. He stifled a cry as he felt another. Breath ghosted across the nape of his neck, his eyes shut tight to keep from seeing. 

“I’ll give you what you want,” a voice growled nearby. “You’ll take it and like it.” Stiles panted as his legs were spread beneath him, his hands reaching out in front of him in time to catch himself from cracking his face against the ground. He was crying, his body trembling. “You know you want my cock.” 

Stiles woke up dripping in sweat. He looked at the clock, groaning when he saw that it was just past ten. He smacked his lips, his tongue darting around his mouth. It was so dry it felt like his tongue was numb. He got out of bed, heading into the kitchen to get water. He found a note taped to the fridge from Cora. 

_Hope today is better!  
xx  
CeeCee_

Stiles smiled as he took it down, setting it on the counter by the sink. Cora had given herself a nickname. He liked it, he decided, as he downed an entire glass of water, then refilled it. He didn’t know what he wanted to do with his day off. Part of him wanted to crawl back in bed because of how sore he was, but he knew he couldn’t do that. He couldn’t let what happened affect him. Yesterday had been a bad day, work wise. Not every day would be that way, and he was lucky that Derek had been there. 

Stiles almost broke his glass as he set it down in the sink with a ferocity he didn’t know he had in him. He wasn’t going to think about Derek. He couldn’t afford to think about him in any way that wasn’t purely professional. Like Allison said, it would only end up hurting him in the long run. Stiles decided to go to the gym. He ran until his legs felt like jelly, the tracker on his treadmill reading at seven miles. He felt better after running. In the locker room, he noticed that he had a missed call. His heart sank when he saw it was from Danny, along with a voicemail. Against his better judgement, Stiles hit play so he could listen to the message. 

“Hey, Stiles. I think we got off on the wrong foot the other night, and I am sorry about that. I’d really, really like to get dinner with you tonight. That’s all, just dinner. Give me a call back.” 

Stiles’ chest constricted. He sat down on a bench near the lockers, staring down at his phone. He was dripping with sweat, his lungs still trying to recover from his seven mile run. Grabbing some paper towels, Stiles wiped his drenched face and neck, then hit redial. He had one hand on his hip, a fist clenching at his side with his head tilted downward towards the floor. 

“I didn’t think you’d call back,” Danny said, foregoing a hello. Stiles bit his lip. Danny always made him feel like he was back in college. That wasn’t who he was anymore. He had to keep telling himself that. 

“Well I am full of surprises,” Stiles said without thinking. He winced, angry at himself. It sounded flirty when he hadn’t meant to come across that way. He blamed his job on that front. Danny laughed, which had Stiles’ stomach in knots. That laugh used to make him smile, now it only made him wish he hadn’t called back at all. 

“So, dinner?” Danny asked, as if it was that easy to win Stiles back, that Stiles was actually something that was to be _won_. 

“I was calling to say that I can’t. I have plans.”

“Are you just making an excuse, or do you really have plans?” Danny asked, incredulous. Stiles rolled his eyes as he began walking out of the gym, heading back up to his apartment. 

“I have plans,” Stiles said with a sigh. “A date.” Shit, _fuck_. He shouldn’t have-

“Oh, really? With who? Anyone I would know?” Danny asked. Stiles had to backpedal somehow. Last thing he wanted was for Danny to ask around about this. 

“No, I doubt it,” Stiles said, his voice clipped. He unlocked the door to his apartment, then made his way inside. 

“Does Allison know them?” Danny pried. Stiles couldn’t stop the guffaw from escaping his lips. “Interesting,” Danny mused as Stiles grimaced. 

“Listen, Danny. It isn’t a big deal, and I was just calling to tell you I am busy, so that is a _no_ to dinner with you.” Stiles was pacing around his bedroom, unable to stay still. 

“Tomorrow then,” Danny pushed. Stiles mouthed _no!_ into the receiver, shaking his fist in the air. 

“I can’t,” Stiles said truthfully. “I work nights the rest of the week. Today is my only day off.”

“All work and no play-”

“I play plenty,” Stiles cut him off. “Bye Danny.” Stiles hung up on him. He couldn’t let Danny weasel his way back into his life. He couldn’t dump him, leave him to go off to Europe and expect everything to go back to normal upon his return stateside. Stiles wasn’t going to wait for him, and he hadn’t. Not that he had let anyone else in, though. Stiles grunted as he tossed his phone onto his bed, then got into the shower. 

Stiles filled his afternoon with answering emails, messing around in his Google Docs, deleting Deucalion from his list, along with his appointments. It felt good, freeing up his Tuesday afternoons once more. He thought about leaving them empty, taking that time for himself each week. Most of his afternoons were light, but it was surprising how many businessmen wanted a mid-day fuck. The amount of men who wanted Stiles to show up at their place of work and blow them under the table was astounding. Stiles didn’t do “work calls”, though. Instead, they would say they had a “luncheon with their personal consultant” and voila, they would show up at Stiles’ penthouse. 

After looking over his schedule for the next couple of days, Stiles played around on his iPad, reading random BuzzFeed articles until his stomach grumbled. He made his way down a couple of blocks to a Greek cafe, grabbed a gyro to go, then headed back to his place. 

He curled up on his couch, watching mindless daytime TV as he ate. He found reruns of _NCIS_ , which was his dad’s favorite so he left it on. The afternoon passed slowly after that. He remained on the couch, taking a nap through an episode and missing the ending. It didn’t matter, though, because he had seen it countless times with his father when he had still lived at home. Stiles woke up missing home, being close to his dad, just the two of them. Now he was across the country and his father remarried. Their entire dynamic changed after high school, which Stiles supposed was the normal progression in life, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt any less. 

Stiles was about to start getting ready to meet up with Derek when he got an email. Stiles grinned when he saw it was from Derek. 

From: hale.derek@gmail.com  
To: stilinski.consults@gmail.com  
Date: Tues, Oct 14, 2013 5:07 PM  
Subject: Dinner

S.S- 

Decided on sushi. Meet at the Sun Cafe on Reade Street at 7. Dress casual, I’d like to see you in something other than a suit.

D.H.

Stiles read the email over twice before setting his phone down. It was ridiculous how excited he was for this. It was just dinner, and it was an appointment. It was like every other john who wanted to have dinner with Stiles, he told himself. This wasn’t any different. 

He changed clothes four times before deciding on jeans, a t-shirt, and a cardigan. Derek had said casual, and that was as basic and casual as he got in the fall weather. Stiles decided that he was going to go to the penthouse beforehand, to look over everything before dinner. He arrived with plenty of time before he was supposed to meet Derek. 

As he entered the penthouse, he held his breath. Half of him expected to see the bed the way it was left: in shambles. Of course that was an irrational fear, because housekeeping always cleaned. Everything looked pristine, just as it always did. Stiles breathed out a sigh of relief. It looked as though nothing had happened. 

Stiles shuffled around the penthouse for ten minutes, futzing with throw pillows and wiping down the countertop even though it was spotless.

He walked to Sun Cafe, knowing he had the time to. He got there five minutes early and was surprised to find Derek there waiting for him by the door. Stiles beamed as he walked up to him, his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. Stiles watched Derek’s eyes raking up and down his body, then couldn’t help but do the same. 

“I knew you’d look good in jeans,” Derek mused. Stiles laughed, his stomach doing an internal flip at the compliment. Coming from Derek it seemed so genuine. 

“I always forget how comfortable they are,” Stiles said as he stood there. Derek was wearing a V neck t-shirt despite the crisp autumn air, along with jeans that hugged his ass and thighs so well that Stiles wasn’t sure how Derek was hiding what he knew was between his legs. Stiles forced himself to look back up at Derek’s eyes, where he found a smirk waiting. 

“We have a table waiting for us inside,” Derek told him, his hand coming up to Stiles’ shoulder to lead him in. Stiles leaned into the touch, relief flooding through him as the warmth of Derek’s hand guided him towards their table. There, draped over one of the chairs, was a leather jacket. Derek had a leather jacket. 

“Big fan of leather?” Stiles quipped as he shrugged off his own coat. Derek lifted his eyebrows at Stiles in surprise. Stiles pointed to the jacket as he sat down. A look of understanding dawned across Derek’s face as he shook his head. 

“Only when it comes to jackets,” he admitted. “Do you want sake?” Derek asked as he picked up a menu. Stiles thought about it for a moment, then shrugged. 

“Sure. Sake and sushi sounds delicious.” Stiles watched as Derek ordered them sake, and tempura as an appetizer from their waiter. For a moment, Stiles wondered what it would be like to have a real date with Derek, what he would be like. It tugged at Stiles’ heart to realize that it wasn’t something he would ever know; this was a business dinner. Stiles schooled his facial expressions as he glanced over the menu. Everything looked so good and it had been awhile since Stiles had sushi. 

“I can’t decide what I want,” Stiles said, breaking the silence. Derek looked up from the menu himself, looking at Stiles in a way that he couldn’t even begin to describe. Stiles took a drink of his water. 

“I have a few different choices I am wavering between,” Derek said, his gaze not leaving Stiles’. Stiles looked down, finding it hard to handle the way that Derek was looking at him. It felt like, well... it felt like Derek actually _liked_ him, and Stiles didn’t know how to react to that. He swallowed before clearing his throat. 

“I was looking at the Lover Roll and the Temptation Roll,” Stiles laughed, covering his face for a second. He had to pick the ones that sounded sexual. Of course he did, because karma is a bitch. Derek smiled at him, amused as Stiles dropped his hand. 

“Those both sound good,” Derek surmised. “I was thinking about the Temptation Roll as well. I like the spicier rolls.” 

“So, Crazy Roll, then?” Stiles asked with a smirk. Derek nodded his head. “Want to split the Temptation Roll, maybe?” 

“We could just get a few and share,” Derek suggested. “Let’s pick another, or do we want two Temptation Rolls?” 

“Hmm,” Stiles thought, tapping his finger against his lips as he looked down at the menu. “Well both of mine have salmon, that’s a lot of salmon, maybe we get something like the House Roll.”

“Something not spicy,” Derek commented. Stiles nodded. 

“To clean the palate,” he laughed. “Ginger alone will not be enough.” They ended up ordering just that. Stiles liked the idea of sharing the sushi. Something about it seemed so intimate to him. 

“I want to know something about you that has nothing to do with sex,” Stiles asked as he sipped at his sake while they waited for their dinner. 

“Do you?” Derek asked, surprised. Stiles nodded. He could feel his heart beating within his chest. It felt loud, like his body was throbbing with it as he waited. “What do you want to know?” Stiles shrugged. “Well, today, I had an appointment with these four moms who like to jog around Central Park. I swear that they hire me just to run out in front of them so they can stare at my ass.”

“I would do the same,” Stiles said as he laughed. “I wouldn’t doubt that they were doing just that.”

“They giggle a lot,” Derek teased. “Anyway, today one of them, who is married by the way, with three kids all under the age of seven, asks me about my personal life.” 

“Like, single or married?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded. 

“Obviously, I don’t wear a ring so she knew I wasn’t married, but I was so thrown because it wasn’t something a client just asks you.”

“Right,” Stiles said with a nod. He didn’t ask, and he didn’t tell. But with the way that Derek was looking at him, he couldn’t help but cave, despite the fact that Derek hadn’t even asked him. “I don’t,” he said. “Have anyone.” Stiles held his breath as he waited for a response.   
“Same here,” Derek said amidst a sigh. He gave Stiles a small smile at that, to which Stiles leaned in, his hands in his lap, and returned the smile. 

Their food arrived, and Stiles ate four pieces too many, because he felt like he was going to explode. When the check came, Stiles reached for it, but Derek beat him to it. Stiles almost protested, but Derek handed the waiter his card before Stiles could say anything. 

“You didn’t need to do that,” Stiles said. 

“It’s my appointment,” Derek said with a shrug. Stiles’ mouth dried at his intake of breath. For a moment, he had forgotten that Derek was just a john. To Derek, he was just an escort. He tried to not let it affect him outwardly, keeping his feelings buried deep within him. “Do we want to take a taxi or walk?” Derek asked as they put on their coats, getting ready to leave. 

“Walk, definitely,” Stiles said. “To walk off the boatload of sushi we consumed.” 

They walked in silence for part of the way, Stiles lost in his own thoughts. Normally if he was with a client he could fill the silence easily, but all he could think of was Derek barging into the room, pulling Deucalion off of him. He pictured the look on his face, the pure anger, as Deucalion tried to tell Derek that he had the right to ignore Stiles’ safeword. Stiles licked his dry lips, looking to Derek who was walking beside him, eyes ahead. 

“I want to thank you again,” Stiles murmured as he shoved his hands in his coat pockets. 

“There is no need,” Derek told him, his head turning so that he could put his full attention on Stiles. “If I wouldn’t get arrested for it, I would have beat the shit out of him for doing that to you.” Stiles swallowed, now avoiding eye contact by looking to the ground as they walked. 

“I wouldn’t have told anyone.” Stiles stopped walking when he realized that Derek had. He gasped when he felt Derek’s hand on his cheek. 

“I know you are using jokes to hide. That’s okay, honestly. But I want you to know that if you want this session to end now, I won’t be hurt by your decision.” Stiles’ breath caught in his throat. “After what you went through...” 

“No,” Stiles said, surprised to find that his hand was on Derek’s chest, fist clenched around the thin fabric of his shirt. “I wouldn’t have kept the appointment if I didn’t want it.” Derek dropped his hand, his eyes on Stiles’ lips before he took a step back from him. If this were a romantic comedy, this would be where Stiles would leap into Derek’s arms and kiss him. Instead, Stiles started walking once more. 

Real life was nothing like the movies. He was not the lead in _Pretty Woman_ , and he didn’t want out of the life he built for himself, not for a john. Once they got to the penthouse, Stiles was unsure of what to do because he didn’t know what Derek wanted. He was unreadable as they both took their coats off, draping them over a chair. Derek stood close to him, so close that Stiles could smell Derek’s aftershave. Stiles gave in, leaning in and wrapping his arms around Derek’s waist, burying his face in the space between his neck and shoulder. His head fit perfectly there. 

That alone made Stiles hold on tighter. 

Derek’s arms wrapped Stiles up in a hug, his lips brushing across his forehead. Stiles shut his eyes, pretending for a moment that Derek wasn’t paying for this, to hold him in his arms. 

“How about we move to the couch?” Derek asked softly. Stiles nodded his head in agreement. They moved to the couch, Derek pulling Stiles down to practically sit in his lap. “This is better,” Derek said somberly, his eyes closing as he rest his forehead against Stiles’. Stiles’ hand reached up and caressed the nape of Derek’s neck as they sat there in silence, unmoving. 

“Derek,” Stiles pleaded. “You have to tell me what you want,” he murmured as Derek’s hand slid down Stiles’ back. “Because I don’t... I can’t tell with you.” 

“I thought it was obvious,” Derek said in answer. Stiles bit his lip as he shook his head slightly, rocking it back and forth across Derek’s. “I just want to sit here with you in my arms.” 

Stiles’ heart ached, but he couldn’t help but smile as he relaxed against Derek’s chest. Derek let out a contented sigh, then slid his hand down Stiles’ back, over his ass, then grabbed hold of his thigh, squeezing it before tugging it over his own. Stiles moved where Derek urged him to, so that he was straddling him, Derek’s hands roaming over his sides, then down his thighs as he looked up at him. Stiles hooked his hands around Derek’s neck, his thumbs playing with Derek’s hair. 

“Just me in your arms?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded his head as he leaned back, trapping Stiles’ hands against the couch. 

“Just like this,” Derek murmured, closing his eyes. Stiles felt his chest tightening, emotions that he wanted to keep deep down coming to the surface. He leaned forward, pushing himself further into Derek’s lap so that his knees pressed between the couch cushions, his elbows hitting the wall as he put his face against Derek’s neck, his lips against Derek’s skin. 

“I can do that for you,” Stiles said, his lips brushing across Derek’s flesh. Derek’s fingers spread across Stiles’ thighs as his lip caught for a moment, before he licked them. Derek let out a shuddering breath, his hands moving over Stiles’ ass, bypassing it for his waist once more. “You can touch me, Derek,” Stiles assured him. “I’m not fragile, or broken.” 

“I know,” Derek said, his head tilting to the side, lips capturing Stiles’. Stiles couldn’t help but let out a moan as Derek’s grip on him tightened even more. The kiss itself was chaste, and ended almost as soon as it began. Stiles couldn’t remember the last time someone had kissed him without it leading to sex. His eyes widened when he realized that was exactly what the kiss was, just a kiss. It had no attachment of ‘I’m going to fuck you next’ behind it. Stiles wasn’t sure he could handle it, the implication that Derek didn’t need to fuck him to feel like he was getting his money’s worth.

Stiles licked his lips again, his eyes on Derek’s. He kissed him again, this time his hands raked through Derek’s hair, tugging lightly, making Derek moan, his mouth opening enough for Stiles to beg entrance with his own tongue. Stiles needed the kiss to mean that sex was inevitable, he needed it to lead to something else.

If it didn’t, he would break. 

He rolled his hips, gasping as they kissed. It was needy and rushed, that much Stiles knew, but he didn’t care as long as he could get Derek to want more. It surprised Stiles when Derek pushed Stiles back slightly, ending what Stiles had been trying to start. 

“Stiles,” Derek said as he covered his mouth with a hand. His other was still on Stiles’ waist, unmoving. “We don’t have to do anything tonight.” 

Anger rushed through Stiles. He needed Derek to want to fuck him. He needed to be numb to what he was feeling, he needed to get off and Derek was denying him of that. It quickly dissipated, because Derek was paying for him to do as he asked. This wasn’t about what Stiles wanted, not really. It was about Derek. 

“Okay,” Stiles said, leaning back into Derek, his nose nuzzling against Derek’s neck. He closed his eyes, sighing as Derek’s hand rested on the nape of his neck, while the other rubbed circles around on his back. Stiles practically melted against Derek, burying his face deeper against him. He breathed Derek in, his eyes widening at the familiar scent of him. He knew that smell. 

Stiles sat up, his brow furrowed. 

“I thought you said you were single,” Stiles said, a hand on Derek’s chest. Derek looked up at him, confused. 

“I am,” Derek stated. “Why?”

“Because you smell like my neighbor, CeeCee.” 

“I don’t know anyone named CeeCee,” Derek said. “And I don’t have anyone, Stiles.” Derek was still caressing Stiles’ back affectionately as Stiles stared down at him. Derek had sounded so sad as he said that he was alone. Stiles’ hand on Derek’s chest moved slowly up his torso, his neck, before grabbing him and leaning in for another kiss. Derek kissed back, his mouth opening up slowly for Stiles. They kissed for longer than Stiles ever had without going further, without the removal of clothes, or the promise of something more. He enjoyed the way Derek cupped his face, the way he ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair, the short moans that escaped Derek’s lips, the taste of him, the way his tongue darted in and out of his mouth, how the scrape of his stubble felt against Stiles’ chin. 

Stiles gasped as he felt Derek’s hand beneath his shirt, on his lower back. He had completely zoned out as they kissed, forgetting entirely that he was fully dressed. The touch of Derek’s fingers against his skin had him shivering for more. 

“Do you want to take this to the bed?” Stiles asked, his teeth raking across his bottom lip. Derek ran his thumb over it, his eyes watching Stiles’ reddened mouth. Stiles was about to take Derek’s thumb into his mouth when he pulled it back. 

“No,” Derek stated. Stiles sat there, unsure of what to do. “Stiles, you were rape-”

“No,” Stiles said, his voice louder than he intended it to go. “Right now you are my client,” Stiles rasped, getting worked up. “This isn’t about yesterday, or how I feel. This is about you-”

“Wrong,” Derek said, his anger apparently by the tone of his voice. “This is about you. It is about me, it is about both of us. You aren’t getting fucked tonight.” 

“I can take it,” Stiles snapped. Derek’s reaction wasn’t what he had been expecting. He groaned, raking a hand through his hair in frustration. 

“Stiles, I wanted you to have a night off from that,” Derek admitted. Stiles was taken aback. He rolled off of Derek, but still sat close to him, a hand resting on Derek’s chest as his feet were tucked up underneath him. 

“You had no intention of fucking me tonight?” Stiles asked. Derek shook his head. 

“None. Not after yesterday.” 

“Does this mean you are going to stop seeing me?” Stiles asked. “Can you not fuck me because someone else-”

“No,” Derek said, interrupting him. “That isn’t what I meant by that, at all. I want to fuck you, but I’m not going to today.” Stiles looked down and away from Derek because he couldn’t describe the internal battle that he was having. He wanted to be fucked, but he also wanted Derek to hold onto him like he had been. He wanted to kiss some more. He wanted _more_. 

“Today is my day off,” Stiles whispered, gulping. “I mean, Wednesdays are my days off.”

“What?” Derek asked, his eyebrows skyrocketing. “Then why-”

“Because I didn’t have any other openings,” Stiles confessed. He rested his head down on Derek’s shoulder, then sighed. He felt like he was ripping in two. “And I wanted to give you an appointment.” 

“I would have waited,” Derek murmured. Stiles couldn’t help but smile despite his trying to school his facial expressions. He had already said too much. It hurt. 

“I didn’t want you to have to wait,” Stiles said. Before he knew it, his head was lifting and they were kissing again. It felt real. It had emotion behind it, and Stiles let Derek in as he wrapped his arms around him. Derek pushed Stiles down against the couch, laying on top of him as they continued kissing lazily. 

Once they stopped, Stiles found himself breathless as Derek tucked his head against Stiles’ shoulder, his lips pressed against his skin. They laid there, unmoving, for a time, just breathing and holding on to each other. Stiles didn’t want to move, he didn’t want to speak because he knew if he did the moment would be over. 

“I want you to do me a favor,” Derek said as he moved his head, resting it on Stiles’ chest. Stiles ran his fingers lightly through Derek’s hair, his eyes closed as he hummed in answer, wishing for Derek to ask him whatever he wanted. “The next time I see you, I want you to tell me what you want to do.” 

Stiles’ hand stilled, mid-rake through Derek’s hair, and his eyes opened. 

“I don’t... I don’t want anything.”

“You don’t have anything you want to do? At all?”

“It isn’t about-”

“What if that is what I want?” Derek asked, completely serious. “What if that’s what gets me off. Doing what _you_ want.” Stiles swallowed as he looked at Derek. 

“Okay,” Stiles said softly. “I’ll think about it.” 

“Good,” Derek said as he started to get up. Stiles almost protested, until he looked at the clock. It was almost midnight. They had been making out for hours and he hadn’t even realized it. Stiles sat up, feeling disoriented as he watched Derek stretch, showing off his stomach. Stiles reached for his iPad, raking his teeth over his bottom lip as he pulled up his payment application. Stiles hesitated before offering his hand out to take Derek’s card from him. 

Derek handed it over without a word. Stiles fussed with it for a second before swiping it, then he handed it back. Derek barely looked at the iPad as he signed his name. 

“Do you want an emailed receipt?” Stiles asked him, knowing what the answer would be.

“No, it’s fine,” Derek said as he waited for Stiles to stand. Stiles walked him to the door, holding his breath as he waited for Derek to walk by him and out the door. Derek leaned over, kissing Stiles on the cheek before walking over the threshold. Stiles swore he blushed. 

“Good night, Stiles,” Derek said. Stiles smiled, nodding his head. 

“You too.” 

He shut the door as soon as Derek started walking down the hallway. He leaned against it, his head bent forward, eyes closed. He couldn’t stop smiling.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is dedicated to Jinxy. 
> 
>  
> 
> I cannot begin to tell you all how overwhelmed I am about the amount of response this fic has gotten. I want to thank you guys for giving it a chance, for commenting, for talking about it and I just have a lot of feelings. You're all the best! <3
> 
> So have this chapter a day before I was planning on posting :)

Derek wasn’t giving himself false hope about Stiles. 

He knew he was paying for his time with him, that Stiles would do what Derek wanted within reason. It would be difficult to know if whatever Stiles chose to do their next session would be what he actually wanted, or if he would choose something that he thought Derek wanted. It was unhealthy, wanting Stiles to want him; he was an escort. He got paid to know what people wanted, to give them their money’s worth. Derek had wanted to hold Stiles, to kiss him, and that was exactly what he’d been given. 

It didn’t matter that Derek thought he saw something in Stiles’ eyes, felt a spark in his touch, heard a gasp of surprise on his lips as they kissed. He could have imagined all of it, or maybe Stiles was just _that good_. That thought alone had Derek hesitating at setting up another session. He needed time to mentally prepare himself for the fact that he was falling for Stiles and that Stiles wouldn’t feel the same. He was just another appointment to Stiles. 

Derek would be okay with that, eventually. All he needed was time. Derek waited until the weekend to email Stiles. 

From: hale.derek@gmail.com  
To: stilinski.consults@gmail.com  
Date: Fri, Oct 17, 2013 4:07 PM  
Subject: Appointment

 

S.S- 

I’d like to make an appointment with you. Whenever is best for you.

D.H.

It was simple and to the point. Derek wanted to ask how Stiles was doing, if he had any plans for the weekend. He wanted to ask that Stiles not schedule him on his day off again, but he didn’t want to push Stiles away. Wednesday night had been good, better than good. Derek had left the penthouse feeling the best he had in a long time. Stiles had felt so good against his body, lying there, limbs tangled as they kissed for hours. Derek had needed that. He needed to hold someone again, to feel that nonsexual contact. It was selfish of Derek to want more of that, to use Stiles for something that he needed. Deep down, Derek supposed that was Stiles’ job, though: to give people what they want, what they need. It just felt wrong to Derek, to have something he needed but only in the most superficial way. Like he was tricking his own mind.

Derek would go on tricking himself if it meant being able to continue seeing Stiles. He didn’t want to stop, no matter how much it hurt afterwards. 

There were no Friday night plans, which Derek was perfectly content with. He hadn’t had a night to himself all week. He had Tuesday with Stiles before dinner with his family, Wednesday with Stiles again, and then Thursday night was poker (where he lost fifty of his hundred-dollar buy in). Derek was rather excited about his planless night. He wanted to make himself something easy for dinner, then maybe finish the book he had been trying to read for the past month. 

But first, Derek needed to grocery shop. He did his shopping online and had his groceries delivered because there was no way he wanted to haul bags of food around the streets of NYC. He pulled up the website he always used, deciding to check his bank account out of habit. 

Confusion played across his face because he had a lot more money in his account than he should. Derek scrolled down the page, looking for a certain charge that couldn’t be found. Stilinski Consults came into view, but something was very wrong. Derek held his breath as he tried to process what he was seeing. 

10/13/13 STILINSKI CONSULTS - 0.01

Stiles charged him one cent for their session on Wednesday. There must have been a mistake while processing it. Perhaps Stiles hadn’t hit enough zeros, or something. Derek grabbed his phone calling Stiles’ office number. 

“Stilinski Consults, this is Allison speaking,” Allison answered congenially. Derek grit his teeth. He didn’t want to talk with Allison, he wanted Stiles. 

“May I please speak to Stiles?” Derek asked. 

“I’m sorry, but he isn’t in right now. Can I help you? I take care of all of his appointments-”

“Allison, this is Derek Hale.”

“Oh,” Allison said, but then quickly recovered. “What can I do for you, Derek?” 

“I was just, uh, looking at my online bank statement and my payment for Wednesday didn’t go through like it should have,” Derek said as he tapped his fingers against his desk, unsure of how to explain that he hadn’t paid. 

“Hold on one moment, let me bring up your file,” Allison said. Derek could hear typing in the background, along with Allison sighing lightly. “I see,” she whispered. “Derek, do you mind if I call you back?” 

“Sure, no problem.”

Derek wondered if Allison was going to call Stiles or not, or if she would just fix it on her own. While he waited for her returned call, he made his grocery order. Minutes turned into a half an hour, turned into an hour before his phone finally rang. 

“Derek? It’s Allison, I am sorry for the delay in getting back to you, but I had to wait for Stiles to get out of a session.”

“I understand,” Derek said as he swallowed down his emotions. 

“As it turns out, Stiles assures me that he plugged in the amount that was owed.”

“But-”

“Derek,” Allison interrupted. “The transaction went through on both ends.”

“What does that even mean?” Derek asked. His heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. 

“It means that you didn’t pay for the session,” Allison admitted. “That being said, I see you have emailed Stiles for another session. At this time I regret to inform you that Stiles is not accepting any new appointments.” 

“What-”

“Have a good day, Derek.” 

And then Allison hung up. Derek sat there, his jaw dropped, shocked. Stiles didn’t want him to pay for what happened on Wednesday, but now he was being denied a new appointment. Derek didn’t know what to think at all. On the one hand, Stiles not wanting money must mean _something_ , but being denied seeing Stiles again made Derek feel sick. 

The only way of contacting Stiles was through his office number or email, both of which Allison had control over. Derek had no way of getting ahold of Stiles. He didn’t know what to do, so he went around cleaning up. After awhile, he thought about taking about taking a nap. He felt exhausted, despite not doing much. A nap might make him feel better, give him a little reprieve from real life. 

He slept until there was a knock at his door. His groceries had arrived. He tipped the delivery girl, then set out to putting all the food away. Derek lost himself in chopping vegetables and readying his meal for one. He went about it mechanically, unfeeling. 

The worst part was, he had gotten his hopes up about Stiles after all. No matter how many times he said that he wouldn’t do it, his mind didn’t listen and neither did his heart. It hurt deep within him, that he ruined yet another relationship. Only this time, there hadn’t even been a relationship to begin with. 

Numbness overcame him. It wasn’t a new feeling as he curled up on the couch in defeat. He would be okay, eventually. All it took was time. It was inevitable, Derek told himself, that he would feel this way when it came to Stiles. Maybe it was better that the band-aid was ripped off before things got worse. 

Derek wound up not doing a single thing all weekend that required he leave his apartment, except for work. It wasn’t until Tuesday night that he even realized it. He arrived at Laura’s like he normally did, but upon entering her apartment he realized that he wasn’t in the mood to cook for them. Laura could tell he wasn’t himself as soon as he entered, her face falling as she walked over and wrapped her arms around him. 

“You look like shit,” Laura teased. Derek couldn’t help but laugh as he closed his eyes. “How about we order pizza?” She asked him as they broke apart, her eyes searching his. She nodded. “Definitely pizza and beer night.” 

“Oh, I want pizza,” Cora said from the couch. “My neighbors will sorely miss your leftovers though, D.”

“I’m sure they will survive,” Laura chided before she returned her attention to Derek. “Want to talk about it?”

Derek sighed. He might as well. 

“I was seeing someone-”

“I knew it!” Cora said, punching her fist into the air. 

“But it’s over, so...” 

“Oh,” Cora pouted. “What happened?” 

“Nothing,” Derek admitted. “I thought it was something it wasn’t. Simple. End of the story.” 

“You know,” Peter said from where he had been sitting in a chair in the corner of the room. “I think with your track record-”

“Hey,” Laura warned. “Be nice.” Peter held up his hands in defense. 

“I was going to say, with your track record when it comes to relationships maybe you should try for something more short term, like a one night stand.” Derek laughed despite of himself. He had tried that, or something like that, and look where it landed him. He was still left in pieces. “Go out this weekend, go to a club,” Peter shrugged. “Let loose. Get drunk, grope someone _consensually_ , and then see how you feel.” 

“Oh! That sounds like a good idea,” Cora said, nodding her head. “I want to do the same.” Derek eyed Cora. He worried about her sometimes. Laura kept her mouth quiet as she dialed a number for her favorite pizza place that delivered quickly. She went into her room to order, not wanting anyone to hear what her family was talking about. 

“I am not hooking up with someone random,” Derek replied as he got himself, Cora, and Peter all beers out of the fridge. He opened them, throwing the caps into the recycling bin, then handed them over. “I’m not into that.”

“Well,” Peter said as he took a swig of his beer. “You can’t knock it until you try it. I find it... invigorating.” Derek sat down next to Cora, his eyebrow raised. 

“Come on, D. We’ll go to a club together, it will be fun.” 

“I don’t want to watch my little sister hook up with someone random at a club.” Cora rolled her eyes. 

“I’ll invite the guys and it will be a blast! Don’t make me beg,” Cora said as she started pouting with her bottom lip stuck out. Derek smiled at her. He could feel the tension inside of himself releasing. He nodded. 

“Alright, fine.”

“That was easy,” Cora joked as Laura walked back into the room. 

“Pizza is on its way!” Laura said as she grabbed herself a beer. “What was easy?” She asked. 

“Getting Derek to go clubbing with me this weekend.” Laura lifted an eyebrow. 

“Are you sure that is a good idea?”

“Don’t coddle him, Laur,” Peter sniped. “He can take care of himself. Besides, he needs to get laid, without an emotional attachment, I might add.” Derek snorted. He had already been down this road, but he wasn’t about to explain himself further. 

The pizza arrived, and was consumed within ten minutes. They watched a movie with Derek, Cora, and Laura all curled up on the couch. Peter left halfway through, complaining that he didn’t really care for sci-fi. Cora weaseled her way into snuggling with Derek, like she always managed to do, with her head on his shoulder, his arm around her. He was dozing off when he realized that she smelled familiar. 

She smelled like Stiles. At least, he thought she did. It could be a phantom scent, something that he wished he smelled but really hadn’t. It didn’t make sense, how she could smell like him. He pushed the thought from his mind, letting his full belly lull him to sleep. 

The rest of the week went by quickly. Another poker night, another week of running and training and working out. A week without talking to or seeing Stiles. Derek was fine, honestly. He barely knew Stiles and there was no reason that he had to feel this attached to someone that literally had no qualms of dropping him so easily. 

Cora texted Derek on Friday around nine telling him which club to be at. She told him that she would meet him there after eleven. Derek showered, then trimmed his growing beard since he hadn’t shaved in a week and a half. He looked like a lumberjack. He dressed in jeans, the pair that he only wore if he really wanted to show off his thighs and ass, and a tight fitting black henley. Derek looked at himself in the mirror: he looked _good_ , and he wasn’t about to let the past few weeks ruin his night. Maybe Peter was right, that he needed to find someone. Not really someone for a one night stand, but someone who wanted to be with him. Someone whom he didn’t have to pay or didn’t need him in a way that he couldn’t give like Jen did. Or someone who wouldn’t murder his family within the blink of an eye. 

Derek wanted normalcy. He wanted to cook for someone, to make them smile. He wanted to wake up next to that person in bed, have groggy morning sex with them. He wanted to hold hands in public and go to the movies together. He wanted to share his life with another person. 

And that person couldn’t be Stiles. 

The line outside the club was long, but after taking one look at Derek, the bouncer let him in to the chagrin of the men surrounding him. Derek smirked as he walked inside. He got a drink from the bar, finding a place to lean against as he drank it slowly. He had a few people approach him, sizing him up. He didn’t feel anything, didn’t feel any tug within him to buy them a drink or to see if they wanted to dance. Derek needed another drink. 

Cora showed up by his side at one point, all smiles with Isaac by her side. Derek bought her a drink, along with Isaac. 

“Are you two dating?” Derek asked her, having to get into her personal space in order for her to hear him. Cora laughed openly, her head thrown back in amusement as she shook her head. 

“No! Me and the guys are just friends. It is possible, you know. For people to just be friends.” 

“I know that,” Derek told her, taking a sip from his drink. “Just asking. Also, I’m beginning to think there isn’t more than one neighbor.” Cora looked confused then her face lit up in understanding. Derek couldn’t hear a word of what she said in response as a new, faster song started: dubstep. She mentioned a name and the fact that he was working late, but he promised to make an appearance. Derek shrugged. It didn’t really matter if he met her mysterious neighbor or not. 

They broke off after that. Derek found someone to dance against, their hands were all over him within minutes. He was starting to feel the alcohol, felt himself loosening. He switched dance partners after a few songs, hands roaming and hips grinding with the music. Derek had someone’s back against his chest, and hand on his neck while the other guided Derek’s along their stomach as they moved to the beat of the music. Derek lost himself in the feel of the bass, in the drop. The guy he was dancing with felt good beneath his hands. He rolled his hips, his hand slipping under his shirt, ghosting across his stomach, feeling a trail of hair leading down beneath his jeans. The stranger in front of him tilted his head back, resting it on Derek’s shoulder, exposing his neck. Derek noticed moles that darted across his skin. He pushed any reminders of Stiles out of his mind as he mouthed at them. 

Derek got lost in the feeling of someone pressed against him, the buzz of alcohol in his system giving him the freedom to touch and be touched in public. 

“Want to get a drink?” He asked him, their lips against his ear. Derek nodded. He was pulled from the crowd, their fingers linked as they made their way towards the bar. “I’m Sean,” he said with a smirk.

“Derek,” he supplied in return. His stomach clenched as he realized that he had been thinking about Stiles, and that Sean was nothing like him. Sure, Sean was attractive, but not what Derek wanted. He wanted...

“Derek?” A familiar voice called out. Derek’s head turned, his eyes wide when he saw Stiles standing in front of him. Stiles was looking between Derek and Sean, his face unreadable. 

“Stiles,” Derek whispered. For a moment, he was happy to have Stiles standing in front of him. Then he remembered that Stiles didn’t want to see him. “What are you doing here?” He asked. Sean rolled his eyes, giving up easily. Stiles watched Sean make his way back into the crowd. 

“CeeCee told me to come out,” Stiles said with a shrug. “I just got off work.” 

“Ah,” Derek said, petulantly. Stiles frowned at him. He could barely hear over the sound of the music, which was frustrating because he really wanted to give Stiles a piece of his mind. Stiles must have felt the same about the volume of the music because he stepped forward, within easy touching distance. 

“I don’t...” Stiles said with an exhale of breath. “I feel like you are angry with me.” Derek laughed as he looked at the ceiling. 

“After being told I wasn’t allowed another session, yeah. I am a bit.” 

“What?” Stiles asked, his jaw dropping. “What do you mean not allowed? I have been waiting for you to call, to email me.” 

“I emailed you a week ago. Then I called your office because something was wrong with the transaction-”

“Nothing was wrong with it,” Stiles said, his voice rising. “I didn’t want you to pay for that.” 

“Why?” Derek asked. They were standing so close now. He could feel Stiles’ breath on his face. He couldn’t stop looking at Stiles’ mouth. “Why wouldn’t you let me pay? Why tell Allison to not give me another appointment?”

“I didn’t tell Allison that!” Stiles shouted over the music. “I... she must have thought that I was in too deep.” Stiles was the one looking at Derek’s lips now. He licked his own, then looked into Derek’s eyes. “I couldn’t ask you to pay because to me it wasn’t a job.” Derek was taken aback at Stiles’ confession. He didn’t know how to respond to it. Without realizing he was doing it, Derek pulled Stiles against him, then kissed him on the lips. Stiles didn’t respond at first, but after a second, his lips moved against Derek’s, his hands cupping Derek’s face. 

“So you are still taking appointments?” Derek asked. Stiles hesitated, then nodded his head as he kissed Derek again. 

“For you? Yes. I can always find time for you.”

“Why me?” Derek asked, his lips brushing with Stiles’. His eyes were closed and he couldn’t stop kissing him, his hands on Stiles’ hips. Stiles gasped, his hands on Derek’s face pushing him back enough so that Stiles could look at him. 

“Because you cared,” Stiles admitted. “I enjoy my time with you.” Derek smiled. He would take what he could get from Stiles. Stiles liked Derek as a john, sure, but Derek was a john that Stiles looked forward to. Derek could handle that. Having Stiles in his arms again was what mattered. 

Derek drew closer to Stiles, unable to stop himself from doing so. He reached out, a hand slipping behind Stiles’ neck, the other resting on the small of Stiles’ back. Stiles melted into the touch, their lips meeting in a desperate kiss that sucked the air out of Derek’s lungs. Stiles’ hands gripped Derek’s shirt, tugging him even closer than before, slipping a leg between Derek’s. Derek moaned into the kiss, opening his mouth for Stiles. Stiles’ hands were on Derek’s face, thumbs brushing across his stubble as they continued kissing. 

When the kiss ended, Stiles licked his lips as he breathed open-mouthed. 

“What are your thoughts on public sex?” Stiles asked. Derek’s breath hitched as he brought Stiles closer, applying pressure to his hand at Stiles’ back. Stiles grinned at him, a hand dropping to Derek’s ass, squeezing it lightly then slipping his hand into Derek’s back pocket. Stiles leaned forward, kissing Derek on the lips in short, light bursts that had Derek reeling. 

“How do you want to do this?” Derek asked, his lips brushing across Stiles’ cheek, his chin, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck. Stiles squeezed Derek’s ass again as he let out a gasp. 

“Bathroom? Back room? There has to be a back room.” 

“Is that what you want?” Derek asked as he raked his teeth down Stiles’ neck, then licked at it. Stiles rolled his hips once, showing Derek just how much he wanted it. “You want me to fuck you in the back room of a club?” Stiles whimpered as his lips found Derek’s once more. 

“I want you naked, in my mouth, and I want to taste you. I want you on your knees, head pressed against my bed as I eat you out. I want to ride you. I want to be _fucked_.”

Stiles stopped rambling as Derek cupped his face, their eyes locking together. 

“Is that really what you want?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded, his fingers wrapping around Derek’s wrist as Derek caressed Stiles’ cheek with a thumb. Derek broke out into a grin. 

“But right now I’d settle for anything,” Stiles admitted. 

“Anything?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded once more, moving his head so that he could take Derek’s thumb in his mouth, teeth nipping on it before teasing it with his tongue. 

“What do you want?” Stiles asked in a hushed tone, barely audible over the music. 

“You,” Derek said in answer. “Just you.” Stiles laughed and it was like music to Derek’s ears. He wanted to bottle that sound up and keep it. “Back room or my place?” Derek asked. Stiles’ eyes shifted, his grip on Derek’s wrist tightened slightly at the mention of Derek’s apartment. 

“Your place,” Stiles whispered as he captured Derek’s lips with his once more. “Let’s go to your place.” 

Derek took Stiles’ hand in his, and made his way to towards the door. He hailed a cab, not caring that the fare would be astronomical. It would be the fastest way for them to get to his place. Once in the cab, Derek sent Cora a text, telling her he left with someone. She’d leave him alone with that admission, at least for the night. As soon as his phone was back in his pocket, Stiles’ hands were on him, his mouth on Derek’s again. Derek grabbed hold of Stiles’ thigh, bringing it over his own lap as they continued kissing. He breathed Stiles in, his eyes closing as Stiles licked at his jawline, burying his face against Derek’s shoulder. 

“How far to your place?” Stiles asked, his breath hot against Derek’s neck. Derek groaned, because it was farther than he wished it to be. He wanted to pin Stiles against his bed, spread him open and take him. A hand cupped the back of Stiles’ head, bringing him in for another long, slow kiss. Stiles’ hand brushed against Derek’s crotch, making him moan into Stiles’ mouth as his hips bucked against Stiles’ touch. 

“Maybe fifteen,” Derek murmured against Stiles’ lips. Stiles’ fingers outlined Derek’s growing erection, stroking him through the fabric of his jeans. It was pure torture of the best kind, Stiles teasing him. Derek slid a hand down Stiles’ back, grabbing his ass. Stiles pressed himself against Derek, moving his hips as he let out an audible gasp, his mouth hanging open. It sent a shiver down Derek’s spine, knowing that this was really Stiles, what he wanted. This wasn’t about getting paid or putting on a show. Stiles really wanted him. 

“There’s time, then,” Stiles said through heavy lidded eyes, his pupils blown as he continued moving his hips into Derek’s, rutting against him slowly. Derek brushed his fingers across the skin just above the line of his jeans, then shoved his hand beneath the fabric. Stiles grabbed Derek as he maneuvered himself onto his back. They weren’t wearing seatbelts, but with the stop and go of the traffic they couldn’t care less. Apparently they also didn’t care about the lack of privacy in the back of the cab, either. 

Derek was sprawled on top of Stiles, gripping his hips as he kissed Stiles. Their bodies moved in tandem, acting as though they weren’t wearing any clothes. Derek was never one for dry fucking, or frottage, but Stiles’ movements beneath him swayed his mind on the ordeal. He loved the way Stiles felt against him, his mouth leaving marks along Derek’s neck gave him more incentive to keep at it. Small noises were escaping Stiles’ lips at each thrust of Derek’s hips, making it known how much Stiles was enjoying himself. He captured Stiles’ lips with his, happy to have Stiles writhing under him despite the cramped space. 

It surprised Derek when the cab stopped and suddenly they were in front of his apartment building. Stiles cleared his throat, feigning embarrassment as Derek paid the cab driver. He had a hand on the back of his neck as he stood on the curb, waiting for Derek to finish up. As the cab drove away, Derek wrapped his arms around Stiles, unable to stop himself from kissing him again. 

This is what he wanted. Stiles in his arms, smiling against his kisses with closed eyes. They made out in the elevator on the way up, Stiles pressed against the wall, lifted into the air with his legs hooked around Derek’s waist, fingers carding through Derek’s hair. They were left panting as the doors slid open, revealing Derek’s hallway. 

Fingers intertwined, Derek lead Stiles to his door. Derek fumbled with his keys as he tried opening it, the excitement making it hard for him to get the door open. Stiles’ laughter filled the hallway. 

“Want me to help?” Stiles teased. Derek stuck his tongue out at him just as he got the key into   
the lock, twisting it and opening the door. As Derek entered and turned on the light, Stiles’ demeanour shifted. He quieted, standing in the doorway. 

“What is it?” Derek frowned, his hand extended out, their fingers still intertwined. He pulled Stiles into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. 

“It’s just... I’m in your apartment,” Stiles said as he looked around. “This isn’t... this isn’t anything like us at the penthouse.” 

“No,” Derek said as he pulled Stiles toward him. “It isn’t like the penthouse.” He kissed Stiles, then, with closed lips and a gentle hand to the back of Stiles’ neck. Stiles took the initiative, tugging at Derek’s shirt until it lifted over his head. He tossed it to the floor, his lips on Derek’s collarbone and shoulder as his hands worked at getting Derek’s pants off. 

Miraculously, they made it into Derek’s bedroom. Derek was down to his boxer briefs and Stiles was still fully clothed as Stiles got Derek onto his own bed. Derek, on his back, looked up at Stiles who was straddling him, sitting on him with his hands on Derek’s chest. 

“What do you want?” Derek asked, his hands running up and down Stiles’ thighs. Stiles licked his lips as he thought. Derek couldn’t help but think that maybe this wasn’t something Stiles got to do, decide what he wanted. Stiles reached behind him, yanking off his socks and tossing them to the floor haphazardly. Next was his shirt, making his own pile next to Derek’s discarded laundry. He hadn’t thought he needed to pick up, didn’t think he’d have anyone over. 

“I want you,” Stiles began as his hands slid up Derek’s torso. He grabbed hold of Derek’s hands, pinning them above his head. “To fuck me.”

“I can do that,” Derek said with a smile, his head tilting to one side as he looked up at Stiles. 

“But first, I want to eat you out,” Stiles rasped. He leaned down, his lips brushing lightly with Derek’s. “And I want to fuck you.” Derek closed his eyes, shivering at the thought. He nodded his head in earnest. “Where is your lube?” Stiles asked. 

“Bathroom, under the sink,” Derek managed to get out. “I can get-”

“I got it,” Stiles said as he got off of him. “You situate yourself.”

Derek watched Stiles disappear into the bathroom, able to hear as Stiles searched through his cupboards for the lube. He slid his boxer briefs down his thighs, then grabbed hold of his pillow, making himself comfortable. Stiles returned, tossing the lube onto the bed. He was holding a condom in his hand with an eyebrow raised in a silent question. Derek thought about it, if he wanted the condom or not. 

“No,” he said with a hitch in his breath. Stiles tossed the condom next to the lube as he climbed onto the bed, leaning over Derek and capturing his lips in a kiss that deepened almost immediately. 

“Your bed is really bouncy,” Stiles whispered against Derek’s lips. “Do we need to move the bed away from the wall?” Derek arched an eyebrow. Stiles shrugged innocently. “I’m going to make you scream, and I have no plans on holding back.”

“ _Jesus_ ,” Derek let out as Stiles’ fingers wrapped around him, stroking him slowly. “You are going to be the end of me.” 

Stiles grinned down at him, then moved down Derek’s body, pushing his thighs apart, lifting them into the air. Derek helped, hooking his hands around the back of his knees as Stiles licked up his length. Derek let out a low moan as he closed his eyes. Letting Stiles take control, to do with him what he wanted was doing things to Derek. He craved more, wanted Stiles to get off on what turned him on instead of what others wished. This was all Stiles’ doing and it sent a rush of warmth throughout Derek’s body. Stiles jacked him off as his mouth teased and licked at his head, taking his time. This was different than their first meeting. This wasn’t rushed and the way that Stiles took his time made Derek realize just how much he wanted Stiles more than just now, more than as an escort. He wanted _this_ Stiles. Stiles the person, who had wants and needs, who liked to give slow, lingering blow jobs where he cupped Derek’s balls in his hand as his mouth worked him, his tongue teasing every so often. 

Derek ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair as he watched him. It wasn’t until Stiles moved, licking all the way from Derek’s ass to the head of his cock, that Derek realized that Stiles liked foreplay. Stiles nosed at the hair at the base of Derek’s cock, his eyes closed as he brushed a finger over Derek’s opening. He mouthed at Derek’s cock, then took Derek’s balls into his mouth before returning to his opening, his tongue probing him open slowly. 

“That feels so fucking good,” Derek moaned, his fingers still in Stiles’ hair. Stiles hummed against him, the flat of his tongue licking across his hole before delving back in. Stiles took Derek’s cock into his mouth, bobbing his head, then pulled back with a ‘pop’ of his mouth. He looked Derek in the eyes, his hand resting across Derek’s neck as he kissed him open-mouthed, filthy with need. Derek reached out, palming at Stiles through the fabric of his jeans. Stiles smiled into the kiss. 

“I want you to touch me,” Stiles said as he crawled away from Derek, getting off the bed in order to rid himself of his jeans and boxer briefs. Derek watched him, his hand going down to his own erection, stroking himself as he watched Stiles undress. 

“Okay,” Derek said as he licked his lips. Stiles surprised him by laying down on his back at the foot of the bed. 

“Come here,” Stiles said, his head tilted as it rest against the bed. His lips were swollen and wet from being around Derek’s cock. Derek loved how he looked. He moved, taking a guess at what Stiles wanted him to do. He sat straddling Stiles, but facing away from him. Stiles’ hands on Derek’s thighs tugged him closer to Stiles’ mouth, where once more Stiles licked at his entrance. Derek groaned, rolling his hips against Stiles’ mouth. After a few moments, Derek got his bearings back then went to work on Stiles’ neglected cock. He took it into his mouth, the taste of precome apparent as he slid his tongue across the head. Stiles’ legs squirmed beneath Derek as he hit the back of his throat, stilling for only a moment. Stiles’ grip on Derek’s thighs tightened as he moaned against Derek’s opening. Derek hummed, the vibrations against Stiles’ cock feeling good in his mouth. Stiles let out a gust of air as his hands slid to Derek’s ass, spreading his cheeks wide, kneading them with the palms of his hands. 

“Just like that,” Stiles murmured. “Fuck, I...” Stiles writhed beneath Derek. For a moment, Derek thought Stiles was going to come, but instead, Stiles only panted, letting a litany of noises escape from his mouth. His hands on Derek’s ass stilled, as if he couldn’t work up to doing anything. Derek had rendered him helpless with only his mouth. 

Derek wanted Stiles to fuck him, but he wasn’t about to make that call. This was about Stiles and giving him what _he_ wanted. 

With a tap on Derek’s thigh, Derek rolled off of Stiles, crawling back up the bed and onto his back once more. Stiles was covered in a sheen of sweat, a line of Derek’s precome smeared across his chest as he reached for the lube. 

“When was the last time you were fucked?” Stiles asked casually as he squeezed a dollop of lube onto his fingers, smearing it between them as he warmed it. Derek thought about it, coming up short. 

“A while,” he said in answer as Stiles pressed a finger inward. Derek grunted against the intrusion, remembering to breathe. Stiles had a hand on Derek’s stomach as the other slowly worked Derek open. 

“I’ll go slow then,” Stiles said easily. “Take my time.” Derek liked the thought of Stiles taking his time, wanting this to last. Derek felt the burn as Stiles moved his finger, beginning to fuck him with it. 

“Oh, fuck,” Derek said as Stiles pulled out, applied more lube to his fingers, then pressed a second finger in along with the first. Derek lost his sense of time as Stiles worked him open, eventually adding a third finger. The loss of his fingers as he pulled away made Derek let out a sob as he jacked himself off. He watched Stiles slick himself up, stroking himself as he readied his cock. 

Stiles was looking at him with heavy lidded eyes, his hair a mess and mouth hanging open. He looked blissed out, completely different than how he looked at the penthouse. This was the real Stiles. 

 

As Stiles lined himself up, Derek reached out for him, a hand on Stiles’ hip as he entered him. Derek’s hand slid up Stiles’ chest as he wrapped his legs around Stiles’ waist. Once Stiles was fully inside him, he began moving slowly. Derek closed his eyes, moaning with each slow thrust. Stiles pressed his chest along Derek’s, kissing him as his thrusts became harder. Derek grabbed onto Stiles’ ass, his mouth moving to Stiles’ neck, teeth raking across his skin as Stiles pounded into him. 

“Fuck, _yes_ , Stiles.” 

“You feel so fucking good,” Stiles gasped. “So tight.” Derek groaned out in appreciation as Stiles sat up more, his hands clutching at Derek’s shoulders for leverage as he quickened the pace of his thrusts. “Derek,” Stiles rushed out. “Derek, what do you want me to...”

“On me, come on me,” Derek all but shouted. Stiles pulled out of him quickly then jacked himself off over Derek, his hand moving fast, his face contorting in a grimace. Hot streams of come splashed across Derek’s chest and stomach, making a mess. Stiles’ chest heaved as he leaned over, his tongue darting out of his mouth. He licked up Derek’s stomach, taking his own come into his mouth. Derek’s mouth watered as he watched Stiles mouth along his skin, then at his achingly hard erection. When Stiles backed away, he could see Stiles’ come coating his cock. 

That was when Derek moved, pinning Stiles to the bed with the blink of an eye. 

“You want me to fuck you like this?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded out a moan, his legs spreading wide around Derek. “You want my cock inside you?” 

“ _Yes_ , fuck me,” Stiles let out. “I want you to fuck me.” 

Derek slid a finger between Stiles’ cheeks, surprised for a moment to find that he was slicked up and open. His mind flashed back to Stiles telling Derek that he had just come from work. The implication hitting Derek like a ton of bricks. Derek stilled for a moment, and Stiles noticed it. 

“Derek?” Stiles said, worried. Derek shook his head, then leaned down, kissing Stiles hard, tasting himself on Stiles’ lips. Derek grabbed hold of Stiles’ thighs as he pressed himself into him. He slid in easily, groaning at the movement. Stiles, too, panted beneath him, his fingers scratching down Derek’s back as he chose an unrelenting pace.

The noises that escaped from Stiles made Derek fuck him harder. 

“Yes,” Stiles managed to get out between thrusts. “Yes, _fuck_ , Derek.” 

It didn’t take long before Derek felt his climax building. After being fucked by Stiles it was a wonder he was able to hold out this long. 

“Stiles, where-”

“Stay where you are, keep going,” Stiles panted. “Don’t stop.” 

Derek didn’t stop. He picked up his pace, fucking into him until he felt the rush of his climax overtake him. He rode out his high, gasping and shuddering within Stiles, filling him. Stiles held onto Derek as he mouthed at Derek’s shoulder. 

As Derek pulled out slowly, Stiles lay limp under him, his eyes closed as his chest rose and fell rapidly. Derek’s hands trailed along Stiles’ body, slowly making their way between Stiles’ thighs. Stiles spread his legs, silently begging as Derek’s fingers brushed across his used hole. Slicked wet with come and sweat, Derek pressed a finger inside. Stiles writhed, his mouth hanging open in a silent gasp, his fists clutching at the sheets surrounding him. 

“Derek,” Stiles pleaded. Derek, his pupils blown, leaned over, lifting Stiles’ legs into the air, spreading them as he licked and sucked at Stiles’ opening “Fuck, fuck,” Stiles screamed, his body shaking as Derek lapped at him, taking both of their messes into his mouth. He was almost about to swallow when Stiles sat up, cupping Derek’s face with his hands, kissing him. Their tongues tangled, the taste of them shared between their mouths. Stiles moaned into it as he pushed Derek back against the bed, straddling him as they continued to kiss. Derek gripped Stiles’ ass, a finger sliding between his cheeks once more. Stiles broke the kiss, moaning as he opened his eyes. 

“I can’t.. enough... too much,” Stiles whimpered as he pressed his forehead against Derek’s. Derek relented, his hands moving across Stiles’ lower back, rubbing it in wide circles. Stiles lowered himself down next to Derek, collapsing in a heap beside him, a leg draped over Derek’s, a hand resting on Derek’s chest as Stiles’ head hit a pillow. “I can’t remember the last time sex was that good,” Stiles admitted. 

“You don’t?” Derek asked, his voice hoarse from their escapades. He needed water, but he didn’t want to move. Stiles shook his head. 

“This was different,” he murmured, his thumb moving across Derek’s chest, grazing a nipple playfully. “I like you, Derek.” Derek’s stomach did a somersault. 

“I like you, too.” Stiles grinned, leaning in to kiss Derek softly. “Stay the night,” Derek said, intertwining his fingers with Stiles’. Stiles looked down at their hands, and nodded. 

“I’d like that,” he said quietly, smiling.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come say hi on [tumblr](slipintothewater)!

Despite the late hour, Stiles sat in a chair as he watched Derek remake his bed with clean sheets. Stiles was wearing a pair of Derek’s sweatpants, well worn with age and the most comfortable thing he has ever worn. Freshly showered, Stiles smelled like Derek, having used his shampoo and body wash, and along with wearing Derek’s clothes it felt so right to him. He felt completely at ease as he sat curled up on the chair with one leg pulled close to his chest, his chin resting on his knee as he watched Derek put on the fitted sheet. 

They had made a mess. It made Stiles smile thinking about it. They had _cuddled_ afterwards, then showered together. Stiles couldn’t remember the last time he was held after sex and hadn’t been paid for it. Sure, sometimes johns liked holding him, but that was usually part of a scene. This was real, and it was completely different than anything he could remember doing. 

He was going to spend the night. He was going to share a bed, and fall asleep next to someone. Not just someone, but with Derek. Stiles closed his eyes, and when he opened them again Derek was standing in front of him, staring down at him. Stiles smiled. 

“Ready for bed?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded as Derek extended a hand, palm up, for Stiles to take. Stiles slid his fingers across Derek’s, his breath catching in his throat as he was tugged to his feet. He collided against Derek, enveloped in a warm embrace. Stiles melted against him, his eyes closing as he rested his head on Derek’s shoulder. 

“I like it when you hold me,” Stiles whispered, afraid of giving away too much, of telling Derek _too much_. Rejection at this point would be devastating. He didn’t want to go back to how they were before. He couldn’t go back to a professional relationship, not now. Not when he had Derek’s arms wrapped around him, wearing Derek’s pajamas. Stiles felt Derek swallow, but remain quiet. Stiles lifted his head, finding Derek’s gaze. “I don’t do this,” Stiles admitted. 

“This?” Derek asked. 

“Anything that doesn’t have a contract. I don’t have sex without getting paid, and I don’t get emotional,” Stiles rambled, breathing in deeply. “I don’t and I am kind of freaking out? A lot. I’m freaking out because I like you and we had sex and I don’t want... what do you want?” Stiles asked. “What are you looking for with me, exactly?” 

“Uh,” Derek said, his nostrils flaring a little. He looked away from Stiles, past him at nothing. Stiles could feel Derek’s heartbeat as he was pressed against him. “I want a lot of things,” he said in answer. Stiles waited for more. “I want to wake up with you beside me, I want to make you breakfast, and for us to spend a lazy Saturday in my apartment and order takeout. I’d like for us to fuck on my couch-”

Stiles interrupted Derek by kissing him, his hands cupping Derek’s face. 

“I don’t really... I’m not about to talk about anything beyond this weekend,” Derek murmured as the kiss ended. Stiles nodded as he licked his lips. 

“Okay,” Stiles said as Derek’s hands veered south, gripping his ass. Stiles couldn’t help but smile as he jumped up, lifting his body enough that Derek could hold him as he wrapped his legs around Derek’s waist. Stiles laughed as he kissed Derek again. “I love doing that,” he admitted. Derek kissed him in return, one hand remaining on his ass as the other slid up his back.  
They fell onto the bed gracelessly, bouncing as they rolled around. Stiles ended up on top, his fingers tangled in Derek’s hair as he nibbled at his earlobe, his chin. He liked the feeling of Derek’s stubble across his cheek. 

Only the fitted sheet was on the bed, with the top sheet still folded to the side, and the comforter lying on the floor in a pile. Stiles reached for the sheet, unfolding it, then draping it over himself as he bent over to kiss Derek. He couldn’t stop kissing Derek. The feel of Derek’s lips against his own was intoxicating. He wanted more, to feel the pressure of Derek’s open mouth against his, to breathe in Derek. Stiles moaned as Derek’s tongue brushed against his, the kiss slow and overwhelming after fucking and their shower. Stiles was sensitive, his body throbbing and yet he wanted to go again. Derek slowed the kiss down even more until it became chaste. 

“I am exhausted,” Derek said against Stiles’ lips. 

“Me too,” Stiles mumbled, his lips sliding away from Derek’s, his face finding comfort between Derek’s shoulder and neck. He stayed on top of him, the sheet covering them, listening to Derek breathe, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. “I have to work tomorrow.”

“Do you?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded as he rolled off of Derek, leaving a leg draped over him, his head lying on Derek’s outstretched arm. 

“So... no lazy Saturday.” 

“I can live with that,” Derek said as he closed his eyes momentarily. He was drifting off. “What time do you need to head out?” Derek asked, his eyes remaining closed. Stiles bit his lip. 

“I have a lunch appointment,” he said, his voice quiet. He didn’t want to talk about appointments with Derek. Stiles’ heart was beating fast in his chest, worry filling his mind. Derek wouldn’t want him if he fucked other people.

“I can still make us breakfast,” Derek said as his free hand found Stiles’ shoulder, then slinked slowly down it, his index finger dragging across his skin until their fingers linked. Stiles looked down, astonished. He couldn’t breathe. 

“Okay,” Stiles managed to get out. 

Derek sat up suddenly, bending over off the side of the bed to grab the comforter. Stiles scooted up the bed fully, finding a pillow. He threw the sheet over the both of them, then Derek did the same with the comforter. Stiles was laying on his back, unsure if the cuddling was over or not, if Derek needed space while he slept. He sighed with relief as Derek got close, a hand over Stiles’ chest, pulling him close, their legs tangling as Derek put half of his head on Stiles’ pillow, his lips grazing over Stiles’ bare shoulder. Stiles found himself dozing off fast, wrapped in warmth. He opened his eyes, or at least attempted to. Derek’s chest vibrated with a short laugh, his stubble rubbing against Stiles’ shoulder lightly. 

“Sleep,” Derek whispered. Then Stiles did. 

Stiles was so hot he was sweating. He woke up parched, panting as he realized he wasn’t in his own bed, eyes wide as he tried to move. It was pitch black and he was unable to budge. Panicking, Stiles pushed against the warm mass that had him trapped. It wasn’t until he heard a grunt that he remembered that he was at Derek’s. He was in bed with Derek. 

“You okay?” Derek asked, his voice catching in his throat from nonuse. 

“Thirsty,” Stiles rasped as Derek untangled his arms from around Stiles. They had been spooning, and Stiles had been the little spoon. His stomach lurched as he sat up to get his bearings. 

“Need a light?” Derek asked as he rolled over onto his back. Stiles shook his head, even though Derek couldn’t see him. 

“I think I know where the door is,” Stiles joked as he stood. Of course, he stubbed his toe on the dresser. “Ow, fuck me! Shit.” The light clicked on and Stiles grabbed his toe. Derek was sitting up in bed, his hair a mess, his face groggy. He kicked the sheet off of him, then got out of bed. Somehow, the comforter made its way to the floor, which was fine with Stiles because Derek was basically a sauna. 

Stiles followed Derek into the kitchen where Derek decided he was getting them both glasses of ice water. Stiles drank his down fast, then got a refill. He had that sticky, dry mouth thing going on that he hated. He felt the opposite of romantic, but as they finished, Derek pulled him close, a lazy smile spread across his mouth as he kissed Stiles’ neck. Stiles gasped at the unexpected move. Derek’s tongue lapped at him, his arms wrapping around Stiles. Stiles breathed out, his mouth hanging open as his own hands gripped Derek’s ass, his head turning so he, too, could work at marking Derek’s neck. Derek hoisted Stiles up onto the counter, and Stiles could definitely get used to being lifted up onto things. 

“I really...” Stiles said before he dragged his teeth across Derek’s shoulder, “ _really_ want you to try fucking me as you hold me up.” 

“Not now,” Derek grumbled as he pawed at Stiles’ pants. Stiles moaned, his own hand slipping beneath the fabric of the pair that Derek was wearing, his finger sliding between the crack of Derek’s ass. “Fuck,” Derek said against Stiles’ neck, biting down. Stiles threw his head back, groaning as he rolled his hips against Derek’s touch. 

“I just-” Stiles had no words. He didn’t know what he wanted, but as long as it was Derek he didn’t care. “Shit.” Derek clenched against Stiles’ finger, his hips rocking as Stiles attempted to press inward. Derek tugged at Stiles’ earlobe with his teeth, his tongue then licking up his neck, his own hands reaching around and kneading at Stiles’ ass through his pants. Stiles panted, pressing himself against Derek’s chest and lifting upward as Derek pushed Stiles’ pajama bottoms down, revealing his hardening cock and bare ass. Stiles whimpered as Derek’s fingers slid between his cheeks, doing the same as he was. “Come on... fuck me,” Stiles rasped against Derek’s shoulder. Derek grunted as he pressed a finger into the second knuckle, moving in and out. Stiles smiled as he bit his bottom lip. His own finger barely able to breach Derek at the angle he was at. Instead of reciprocating, Stiles moved his hips shamelessly as Derek fucked him with a finger. “Please, Derek,” Stiles begged, he wasn’t even sure what for. Stiles gave up on trying to get to Derek’s ass, and instead worked at freeing Derek’s cock between them. Stiles hopped down from the counter, shoving Derek’s pants down as Derek’s fingers slipped out of him. 

Stiles fell to his knees, wanting to taste Derek. He licked up his shaft, his fingers jacking him off, holding the skin back, revealing his head. Stiles lapped at it, tasting a drop of precome as it spread across his tongue. He closed his eyes, reveling in the feel of Derek in his mouth. Stiles looked up at Derek, then, their eyes meeting as Stiles took Derek further into his mouth, as he reached a hand behind himself, pressing inward. Stiles broke eye contact then, closing his eyes at the feel of his own finger, fucking himself as he sucked at Derek’s head. He rolled his hips, his cock slapping against his stomach as it stood straight up, the movement of his hips making it sway. Stiles let out a moan as Derek pulled away, a line of spit trailed from Derek’s cock to Stiles’ lips, breaking as Derek backed away. 

“You are too much sometimes,” Derek said as he got Stiles to his feet, grabbing the back of his neck to allow their lips to collide. Stiles couldn’t stop trying to climb Derek like a tree, his legs wrapping around him once more as his arms held onto Derek’s shoulders and neck. 

“You haven’t seen nothing yet,” Stiles said, his lips against Derek’s ear. “Fuck me, Derek. Please.” Derek groaned, his hands on Stiles’ ass. “I’m still wet, I’m ready.” 

Their lips crashed together as Derek’s cock slid along the underside of Stiles’ balls, catching against his perineum. Stiles moaned, moving his body, feeling Derek’s cock against his ass. 

“Lube-”

“No,” Stiles said as he licked his lips. “Still, from earlier.” Stiles couldn’t concentrate on words as Derek pushed into him. Stiles moaned at the intrusion. Derek slid in easily, considering he was holding Stiles up himself. 

“You’re going to have to... fuck, shit!” Derek shouted as Stiles began moving. Derek had a hand on Stiles’ ass, another on his thigh, helping Stiles move. Stiles put his head down on Derek’s shoulder as he got fucked, hard and slow by Derek in the middle of his kitchen. Stiles’ dragged his fingers across Derek’s back, grasping for something to hold onto. Stiles could feel Derek’s muscles contracting beneath him, as he held him up, fucking into him. Stiles shuddered, a hand wrapping around himself, stroking in time to Derek’s thrusts. He was so close already, completely fucked out from earlier. 

“I’m going to come,” Stiles felt like he shouted. Suddenly he was being placed onto the counter, the loss of Derek within him jarring as Derek bent over in front of him, taking Stiles into his mouth. Stiles put his fingers in Derek’s hair, holding on as he began fucking Derek’s mouth. “Shit, your mouth feels so fucking good.” Derek’s hands were on his thighs, sliding up and down caressing them as Stiles nearly choked him with his cock, coming down Derek’s throat. Stiles’ toes curled as he threw his head back, chest heaving. Derek bobbed his head slowly, his tongue twisting around Stiles’ cock, swallowing all of him down until he couldn’t handle being touched anymore. Stiles pulled Derek back, watching Derek’s swollen red lips come off of him, wet with spit and come. Stiles whined deep in his throat as Derek grabbed at his ass once more, a finger teasing his hole. Stiles, a hand on Derek’s chest while the other remained in his hair, moaned, his eyes shutting as Derek wrapped Stiles’ legs around his waist again. 

Stiles thought they were going back to fucking, but as Derek began walking, Stiles opened his eyes. Derek was taking him back to bed. Warmth spread throughout Stiles’ body as Derek laid him down on the bed, his cock hanging between his legs. Stiles wrapped his fingers around it, stroking him as they kissed, Derek hovering over him, hands on either side of Stiles’ head. 

“Where do you want to come?” Stiles asked as he quickened his pace. “On my stomach? In my mouth?” Derek kissed him again, shutting him up because he sounded like this was his job. Right now, it wasn’t. Right now, with Derek above him, he was off duty. This was about feeling, about emotions and being together. Derek jerked his hips above Stiles, moaning into his mouth as he came across Stiles’ chest. Stiles sighed happily as Derek ended the kiss and began running his tongue over Stiles’ bare torso, cleaning up his own mess. “You really like that, don’t you?” Stiles asked with a tilt of his head. Derek hummed against his skin, a hand ghosting across Stiles’ stomach. Stiles’ eyelids began closing, becoming heavier with each second that passed. 

“I do,” Derek admitted as he rolled away from Stiles. Stiles almost protested, until the light flickered off and then Derek was beside him once more. They curled around each other, drifting off once they got comfortable. 

Stiles felt the bed shift, stirring him from a deep sleep. He wasn’t used to sleeping in bed with anyone, and Derek getting up woke him easily. Stiles spread across the bed, his eyes opening just in time to watch Derek pull on a pair of briefs from a drawer, then walk out into the hallway, towards the kitchen. He thought about moving, about joining Derek in the kitchen, but he wasn’t ready to face him just yet. 

Stiles was scared. He confessed to a john that he had feelings for him, and he got a confession in return. Derek was no longer a john, he was just Derek. Stiles smacked his lips, wishing for a toothbrush and some mouthwash as he sat up. He found his jeans, checking through his pockets until he came across his phone. 

It wasn’t until he saw a mixed text from Allison that Stiles realized just how fucked he was. Allison warned him not to get attached, not to get close to Derek and now here he was, lying in bed as Derek made him breakfast. They were going to have morning sex. 

_Please tell me that you not answering my phone calls doesn’t mean what I think it means_ Allison’s text read. Stiles bit his lip as he got out of bed, grabbing his clothes and getting dressed. He walked into the bathroom, searching for a spare toothbrush but not finding one. Stiles opted to use mouthwash, just to get rid of the taste of sleep that was in his mouth. When he walked back into Derek’s room, he almost collided with him. Derek took a look at a fully dressed Stiles, his face falling. Stiles gave him a small smile, shoving his hands in his pockets. 

“Breakfast before you head out?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded, taking a step forward because it was just that easy. He kissed Derek, his eyes closing as their mouths moved, lips parting slightly. Derek’s hands were on his hips, pulling him close. He fit perfectly against him, and it made Stiles ache to be near him the rest of the day. But that wasn’t something he could do. 

“Of course,” Stiles answered, finally. “I just have to stop by the office before going to the penthouse.” 

“It’s almost ready,” Derek said as he kissed Stiles again. “I’ll get dressed.” 

Stiles felt awkward, standing there in Derek’s apartment, watching him get dressed. There was a difference between sober emotions and the ones felt while endorphins clouded thoughts. Stiles liked Derek, he knew he did, but he had a life built for himself and it would be hard to make way for Derek in that life. Derek noticed Stiles’ tense stance as he zipped his jeans. 

“You can go ahead and leave, if you want,” Derek told him as he found a shirt in a drawer, pulling it on over his head. Stiles watched Derek, his head shaking slightly. 

“No,” Stiles said as he swallowed. “I’m- I want to have breakfast with you.” Derek smiled, kissing Stiles on the cheek before walking out of the bedroom. Stiles’ fingers brushed across the spot that Derek’s lips had brushed against, his eyes darting around the room, his mind reeling. He needed to find a way to work Derek into his life. There had to be a way. 

He’d ask Allison about it. She was the only one who he could talk to about it, after all. Scott wouldn’t understand, and Cora had no idea what Stiles did for a living. 

Stiles sat on a barstool as Derek readied the eggs. He had already made bacon, and chopped up fruit. 

“How do you like yours done?” Derek asked him. 

“Over easy,” Stiles said as he looked around. Domesticity wasn’t something that he was used to, not in the slightest. He couldn’t even picture himself spending a lazy Saturday with Derek, and that was something that hurt him. He wished he could see it, but thinking about it only made Stiles’ stomach clench. “Want me to make the toast?” He asked. “Get our drinks?” 

“Sure,” Derek said easily. Stiles got up, then walked around the island and into the kitchen. “Glasses are above the dishwasher,” Derek supplied. Stiles opened the cupboard getting down two glasses. “I like orange juice.” 

“Me too,” Stiles said with a smile. “Pulp or no pulp?”

“I don’t have any with pulp,” Derek said as he flipped over Stiles’ eggs. 

“Good,” Stiles teased as he poured them both a glass. “Are we sitting at the bar, or the table?” Stiles asked. 

“Bar’s fine, table is for when I make you dinner.” Stiles nodded, his head dipping down as his cheeks reddened. The thought of Derek cooking for him had warmth spreading throughout his body. He wanted that, very much. 

“I will just have to wait, then, to sit there.” Stiles didn’t even know what to say, really. Derek made him feel like this could be so easy, that it wouldn’t be hard. Stiles knew better, though. Derek showed Stiles were the silverware was kept, and Stiles set their places before making the toast. It was perfect timing, because when the toast popped up, their eggs were ready. 

Derek set out a bowl of vanilla flavored Greek yogurt to dip their fruit in as well. The breakfast was simple, really, but to Stiles it tasted amazing. To have someone make him breakfast meant something to him. It reminded him of his dad, of family breakfast on Sundays because he never had the early shift. 

“One time, I should make us pancakes,” Stiles said as soon as he swallowed a bite of egg. He reached for a strawberry, dipping it in yogurt before bringing it to his mouth. “I can make amaretto pancakes.” 

“That sounds good,” Derek said as he sucked bacon grease off of his thumb. They were both quiet for a while as they ate, until Derek broke the silence with a sigh. “Do you think we could do something on Wednesday?” He asked. Stiles sat there for a moment, realizing that Derek was talking about going on a date. A real date. 

“Yes,” Stiles said. 

“You know, I don’t even have your personal number,” Derek joked. 

“We’ll have to fix that,” Stiles said as he grabbed a piece of honeydew melon, dipping it in yogurt. Stiles checked the time, his shoulders slumping. His time was running out. “Want me to help you with the dishes before I head out?” Stiles asked as he began gathering his dirty dishes. Derek stopped him by tugging on his shirt sleeve. 

“Leave them,” Derek said as he pulled Stiles towards him. Stiles couldn’t help but be wrapped up in Derek’s arms, their mouths finding themselves with ease. Stiles breathed into the kiss, wishing he didn’t have to go. 

“Give me your number,” Stiles asked against Derek’s lips. “I’ll call you later.” Derek did just that, watching as Stiles plugged it into his phone, then sent Derek a text. They both heard Derek’s phone make a message received noise in the other room, where his phone was still in his pants from the night before. Derek kissed him again. “I’ll talk to you later,” Stiles said, taking a step back from Derek. 

“Sounds good,” Derek said as Stiles walked out of his apartment. When Stiles got down to the street, he looked both ways, not knowing which was the faster way to the subway. He pulled out his phone, laughing to himself as he hit send. “That was fast,” Derek joked as he answered. 

“I don’t know which way the subway is,” Stiles confessed. “Or where I am, really. I wasn’t paying attention last night.”

“Hmm, I wonder why,” Derek teased. Stiles snorted as he covered his face with a hand. “Well you want to go left, then right after two blocks. You’re in Murray Hill.” 

“Oh, wow, okay. Thanks,” Stiles said as he set off. “Uh, I will call you if I get lost or you know, something. But I _will_ call you,” Stiles rambled. Derek chuckled at him. 

“Talk to you later, Stiles.” With that Derek disconnected and Stiles was left with a smile that wouldn’t fade. 

Well, it didn’t fade until he got to his office where Allison was waiting for him with two coffees. She looked him up and down with an eyebrow raised. 

“Is that last night’s suit?” She asked. Stiles rolled his eyes at her. “Don’t give me that look, I am concerned.” 

“Thanks for your concern.”

“You’re welcome,” Allison chimed in. “Now spill. Am I out of a job?”

“What?” Stiles asked, his eyes wide. “Why would you be out of a job?” 

“I thought you and Derek got together-”

“We did, I mean... we are. Together.” Allison folded her arms. “But that doesn’t mean that I’m not going to have sessions. I have one at noon,” Stiles explained. “And I told him that. He knows what I do, Allie.” 

“That doesn’t mean he is okay with it.”

“Well he fucked me last night after...” Stiles trailed off. He didn’t want to finish that sentence. Instead, he slumped over in his chair. “This is going to get complicated.” 

“Yes,” Allison said as she exhaled audibly. Stiles groaned as he swept his hands over his face, rubbing them up and down. “Did you talk about it? Or did you just have a lot of sex?” 

“Both?” Stiles said, confusion flooding his mind. “I mean, we fucked, yeah. Really, really well actually. The best sex.” 

“Well that’s good,” Allison said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “But did you talk about if this was a one time thing or not?”

“It’s definitely not a one time thing,” Stiles said with certainty. “We have a date Wednesday night.” 

“Okay,” Allison said, elongating the word as she got to her point. “And he didn’t say anything about being okay with you continuing to be an escort?” 

“He...” Stiles thought about it for a moment, trying to remember. Derek had evaded it. “No,” he whispered. “He didn’t say it exactly, no.” 

“You need to make sure that first of all, this is what you actually want, and second, if it is, that he’s getting what he wants and needs out of this too. I’m just afraid that he is getting free sex out of you.”

“He wouldn’t,” Stiles said. “He got upset when he didn’t pay for last week-”

“Which we haven’t discussed yet,” Allison pointed out. Stiles sighed. It was going to be a long morning. He knew that Allison was looking out for his best interests. She didn’t want him hurt, she didn’t want him to do something detrimental to the company, and she didn’t want Stiles to regret his decisions later. 

Stiles’ luncheon went well. He had seafood, oysters, because they were his client’s favorite, before they headed to the penthouse for the afternoon. She giggled through lunch as she not so subtly attempted to play footsie with him in her high heels. Stiles was on board with her slipping them off beneath the table, her foot sliding up his thigh and applying pressure to his crotch. That was her thing, making him hard in public. They had sex in the bathroom, before dessert, then grabbed the check. She liked getting a massage, naked of course. She liked Stiles’ hands on her back, her calves, her feet. Especially her feet. Stiles didn’t judge, he never did. She came four times by the time he was done. 

She kissed him on the cheek as she tipped him fifty extra bucks for his talented tongue. 

Stiles was left at half mast as the door shut behind her. He thought about getting straight into the shower, but took his phone out of his pocket instead. He had two hours before his next appointment, which was plenty of time to call Derek and to clean up. Stiles hit send as he went about straightening up the bedroom. They hadn’t even gotten underneath the sheets so all he had to do was fix the comforter. The phone rang three times before Derek picked up. 

“Hey,” he said, out of breath. 

“Bad time?” Stiles asked, wondering for a moment if Derek was at work. 

“Yeah, I was just doing some crunches and stuff at home instead of going to the gym since today is a cheat day for me. You done for the day?” 

“No, not done. I have time though, so I thought I’d call you.” Stiles sounded like an idiot. Why would he call Derek between two sessions? He should have just jacked off in the shower like he normally would. 

“Really?” Derek asked. “How much time?” 

“An hour before I have to get ready,” Stiles supplied as he sat down on the couch. Sure, he was keyed up from his session still, but he wasn’t about to ask Derek for phone sex. He didn’t know if that was on the table or not. 

“What do you want to do with that hour?” Derek asked, his voice quiet. Stiles smirked. Maybe phone sex was on the table after all. 

“Well, I’d like to get off if I’m being perfectly honest with you.”

“I like when you’re honest with me,” Derek said in answer. “What are you wearing?” Derek asked. 

“Isn’t that my line?” Stiles teased as he started unbuttoning his shirt. “I’m taking my shirt off, but I’ve still got my pants on. Tell me what you are wearing?” Stiles started taking his pants off, shoving them down his thighs without standing up from the couch. He put Derek on speaker phone, placing the phone on the back of the couch. 

“Well, I was just wearing gym shorts, but...” Stiles laughed as he wrapped his fingers around his hardening cock. He let out a loud, exhaling breath as he began stroking. He needed lube, but it was too far and he didn’t want to get up. He let spit gather in his mouth before licking his palm to use as a shitty substitute. 

“I’m already hard,” Stiles admitted as he rest his head on the back of the couch. “You make me so hard, Derek.” Stiles could hear the tell-tale signs that Derek was masturbating along with him. “I’m on the couch, fucking my own hand wishing it was you.” 

“Fuck, Stiles,” Derek grunted as he breathed into the receiver. “I wish I had your mouth around my dick.” Stiles moaned as he fucked up into his hand. “Your fucking mouth, shit.” Stiles smiled. He loved how vulgar Derek got when he was turned on. Stiles could already feel his balls tightening, his stomach muscles clenching as he picked up his pace. 

“I’m close. I’m so fucking close, Derek.”

“Come on, come for me. I want to hear you,” Derek gasped out loud as he groaned through his own release. Stiles made a mess all over his chest, his fingers smearing his come around as he shut his eyes, panting through the feeling of bliss that spread throughout his body. He was addicted to that feeling. 

“I wish you were hear to lick me clean,” Stiles said as he licked his lips. Derek hummed in agreement. 

“Wednesday,” he said as Stiles heard shuffling around, like Derek was finding something to clean up with. Stiles grabbed his phone with his clean hand, then made his way into the bathroom to do the same. “Wednesday I will have you on your knees, have my tongue on you.”

“I can’t wait,” Stiles confessed as he wet a washcloth. He bit his lip, thinking about what Allison said earlier. He didn’t want to talk about it over the phone though, so he swallowed that conversation down for another time. “Want me to call you later, you know, not just get each other off?” 

“What time do you think you’ll be done?” Derek asked. 

“Not until midnight,” Stiles said with a sigh. 

“I have work at six,” Derek said in answer. Stiles nodded his head, his shoulders slumping. They are basically on opposite schedules. “Text me, though.” 

“Okay, I can do that.” 

“Bye, Stiles,” Derek said before he hung up. Stiles set his phone aside on the countertop as he looked in the mirror. He needed to shower, to get the smell of come off of him and the taste of his client out of his mouth before his next session. 

Stiles’ evening went smoothly, a quick fuck session, a late dinner in his room alone, another quick shower, then a scene that he had done too many times to count where he ended up on his knees, hands tied behind his back as he got his face fucked. 

When he was through, cleaned up for the last time that day and on his way home, wrapped up in his coat and scarf, he pulled out his phone to text Derek. Only, he had a few missed texts from Cora and Allison to answer first. 

_How did today go?_ Allison had texted. Stiles rolled his eyes. 

_Great, no issues._ Stiles replied. No need to explain how his knees hurt, his wrists were bound a bit too tight, and how he didn’t care for his dinner at all and wouldn’t be ordering it again. No use in not being concise about it. 

_You + me + beer = fun?_ Stiles laughed at Cora’s text, checking the time again. She had sent it at nine, and now it was just past midnight. 

_Rain check? Just got this._ Stiles responded. 

He got two responses at once as he was attempting to text Derek. 

_Any second thoughts?_ Allison asked. Stiles made a face at his phone. 

_No? About what?_ He sent back quickly. 

_Sure thing. Long night?_ Cora asked. Stiles bit his lip, taking his time in choosing his wording for his reply. 

_It’s just late. Today was okay. Yours?_

_I mean about Derek. Still want that? Or you keeping your job?_ Allison fired back. Stiles shook his phone because he still hadn’t texted Derek. Before sending a text back to Allison, Stiles decided to shoot Derek a text to at least get a conversation started before he reached his apartment. 

_Hey, just got off. You up?_ He asked Derek. While he waited for a response he went back to Allison’s text. 

_Both. Derek and my job. Talk to you tomorrow._ Stiles ended that conversation because the last thing he wanted to do on a train after midnight was talk about how he fucked people and got fucked for a living, and now has feelings for someone. Not just someone, but a john. Stiles sighed in frustration as he closed his eyes, waiting for Derek to text him back. 

When his phone chimed again, Stiles frowned when he saw that it was from Cora. 

_Been with the big bro all evening, left a bit ago because he gets up early like an adult._ Stiles couldn’t help but laugh because technically he was an adult, but he never felt like one. _You home?_ Cora texted before Stiles could even respond to her. 

_Not yet, but I am going to bed._

_Night then._ Cora replied. 

Stiles sat there with his eyes closed until he reached his spot. The walk from the subway to his apartment wasn’t long, but with his phone in his hand, still silent, it felt longer than normal. He knew Derek had to work early, and he knew that it was probably on silent, but that didn’t change the fact that Stiles’ stomach was in knots over the fact that Derek hadn’t responded to his text. 

He refused to be that person. The one that needed affirmation, needed to be texted back immediately. Stiles was not that person, he never had been. But as he entered his dark, quiet apartment and headed straight into his room, he felt ill. What if Derek had changed his mind about Stiles? What if he realized that he couldn’t date an escort? 

As Stiles changed for bed, he gnawed at his bottom lip, his eyes casting over his phone, wishing it to light up. It remained dark as he crawled into bed, his iPad in his lap after he turned out the lights. He checked over his schedule. He had six sessions the next day, rather high for a Monday. Stiles slumped down in bed, frowning. Some of them were favorites of his, but that didn’t matter to him at the moment because what he wanted was for his phone to light up. 

Stiles checked it one more time, just in case he had missed an incoming text; he hadn’t. He dimmed the screen, groaning as he threw his head back against his pillow. Sleep wouldn’t come easily, but Stiles had to try. 


	8. Chapter 8

Monday mornings always felt earlier than the other days of the week. Derek groaned as he turned off his alarm. It had been a later night than he had planned on, what with Cora showing up and demanding he tell her about his night. 

Derek had given her a very, very vague rundown. He mentioned that he had run into the guy he had been seeing, and that they came back to his place, then he stayed the night. It was weird, telling his little sister about Stiles. It was like that was something sacred to him, just between him and Stiles, and telling Cora was like admitting it to himself that he and Stiles both liked each other. The situation was delicate, since he and Stiles hadn’t really talked about it fully yet; so talking to his sister about it was hard. There had been a lot of deflecting because he simply didn’t know what was happening himself. 

His bed was warm, and somehow his heater hadn’t kicked on in a while, so his room was colder than he wanted it to be first thing in the morning. Derek reached for his phone, pulled it towards him as he buried himself further in his covers, not wanting to get out of bed just yet. He smiled when he saw a text from Stiles from the middle of the night. 

_Hey, just got off. You up?_ It read. He received it at quarter to one, two and a half hours after he kicked Cora out of his apartment and got ready for bed. Derek shifted in bed so he could type more easily, his face illuminated by the glow of the phone. 

_I was in bed already. Talk to you tonight maybe? Between appointments?_ Derek wasn’t sure if he should have sounded so unsure, but he really didn’t know Stiles’ schedule at all. As he got out of bed he tried to push his thoughts of Stiles’ appointments out of his mind. He knew very well what Stiles did, because that is how he met him. But still, that didn’t change the fact that Derek could feel himself wishing that Stiles didn’t have sex with other people. 

It was hypocritical of him to want Stiles to himself, not when Stiles made his living by having sex with people. He knew that and knew that Stiles liked what he did. That didn’t make it any less painful, the realization that he couldn’t have Stiles to himself. 

Derek got ready for work, not expecting to hear back from Stiles until around noon. When he got out of the shower and got dressed he checked his phone out of habit, surprised to see a text waiting for him. 

_I don’t have a lot of time today. Rain check?_

The reality of their situation hit Derek hard. Stiles kept his schedule full, his life busy. He packed his schedule weeks in advance and Derek would still basically need an appointment to even talk to Stiles, let alone see him. Derek’s jaw clenched as he typed out an answer. 

_Tomorrow then._ He said. He put his phone down with a little more force than he had originally intended, but he couldn’t really hold back his feelings. Not when for one day he thought that he could have something good, something that he could smile about. But as a wise man once said, nothing is ever easy. 

_:)_ was Stiles’ response. Derek couldn’t help but smile at it as his head shook. His body betrayed him, with butterflies appearing in his stomach. All he could do was go through the motions of his day.

He went for his run with the moms in upper Manhattan, had three one hour sessions back to back before he took lunch with his uncle, then had two more at separate gyms afterward. He stayed at the gym for an extra two hours before he headed home. Derek would be lying if he told anyone that he hadn’t been checking his phone every so often in hopes of seeing a text from Stiles. 

Once he got home, he went about making himself dinner. Once it was in the oven, he took a quick shower. He pulled on a comfortable shirt and pair of pajama pants, then checked his phone out of habit. His eyes widened when he saw three missed calls and four texts. All of which were from Stiles. Worried, Derek checked the texts first. 

_You free for a second?_

_Answer your phone!_

_Okay well I had a cancellation._

_Call me?_

Derek’s shoulders relaxed. For a moment he had been afraid that Stiles had been in trouble, like with Deucalion. He was relieved, but as he hit the call back button he was afraid that Stiles would be calling him just to get off again. While the day before had been fun, he wanted more from Stiles than just sex and he had to get that point across, somehow. 

“Hey!” Stiles said from the receiver. “I was afraid you were ignoring me for a second there.” 

“No, I was in the shower,” Derek said as he checked on his food. “You said something about a cancellation?” 

“Yeah, uh, I guess it is a little too late now, but I was going to try to see if you wanted to meet somewhere for dinner, but by the time the both of us got somewhere it would be rather futile.” 

“Ah, well... maybe next time?” Derek’s stomach sank because he would have liked to have dinner with Stiles. “Plus, I already have dinner in the oven.”

“I forgot you cook. I remember now, though. Your dad used to be a chef?” 

“He did,” Derek said with a sad smile. “I can’t believe you remember that.”

“I remember things about people I like,” Stiles supplied, which made Derek’s stomach do somersaults.

“How much time do you have now?” Derek asked as he took his food out of the oven to cool off. He poured himself a glass of wine to go with it, imagining Stiles sitting on the couch in the penthouse doing the same. Stiles let out a sigh. 

“Well I had an appointment at six, but they cancelled so the next one is at eight-thirty.” Derek checked the clock, it was just past seven now. 

“Is your eight-thirty your last appointment tonight?” Derek asked. 

“No, I have one more afterward.” 

“How many hours does that mean you worked today?”

“Uh, my first appointment was at noon? So noon to midnight-ish.” Derek sucked in a breath at the reaffirmation of Stiles’ busy schedule. “But today wasn’t too bad. I had a luncheon appointment, which lasts thirty minutes tops, then I was free until three,” Stiles said nonchalantly. “So it isn’t like I am on my knees for twelve hours straight.” Derek cleared his throat at the visual of Stiles’ reddened, bruised knees, fucked raw mouth, hair completely a mess from being tugged on. “You okay? Shit, did I say too much-”

“No, you’re fine. I just zoned out,” Derek told him. 

“About what?” Stiles asked. 

“About you on your knees,” Derek said in an exhale of breath. 

“Wednesday,” Stiles promised. “Hey, so I was just, uh, well.” Stiles paused for a minute, gathering his thoughts, Derek guessed. “I was thinking that maybe instead of going out somewhere for our date, we could stay in?” Derek grinned. 

“I can cook for you,” Derek supplied, finally feeling at ease with their conversation. “I’d like to cook for you, for us.” 

“I’d like that, yeah,” Stiles murmured, his voice barely audible. “Well I should eat before my next session, and I don’t really want room service again.” 

“Want me to let you go?” Derek asked. 

“No? I mean, I don’t want to get off the phone but-”

“You should go eat. We’ll talk tomorrow.” 

“Sounds great, have a good night, Derek.” 

“You too,” Derek said in return. As Derek sat down to eat dinner, he tried to stop himself from thinking about Stiles with his two remaining appointments. Instead he ate, then did the dishes. He spent the evening watching some TV that he had recorded, falling asleep midway through an episode of _The Walking Dead_. 

Tuesday went by faster than he had expected. By the time he was on his way to Laura’s, he hadn’t even realized that Stiles hadn’t called or texted him yet. Derek supposed it was still early, it being not yet six, so he let Stiles slip from his mind. He and Laura were making fish tacos for everyone, along with a tortilla soup since it was rather brisk outside.

Cora had her books spread out on Laura’s kitchen table, her hair up in a messy bun as she worked on an essay that was due the next day. Peter, too, had his laptop out. Everyone seemed to be too busy for family night it seemed. Derek hummed softly to himself as he stirred the soup.

“So, D,” Laura said, leaning in close as she whispered. “Cora tells me you are seeing the guy who you were having issues with?”

Derek shot Cora a glare, his lips pursed, before he answered Laura. Cora _would_ be a tattletale. Luckily for him, Cora had headphones in and was typing away diligently so she didn’t realize he was giving her a death glare. 

“Yeah, we are kind of seeing each other.” 

“What do you mean by ‘kind of’”? Laura asked, perplexed. “Does that mean you guys are just fucking or-”

“We fucked, yes.” Derek said through gritted teeth, his voice as low as he could make it. “But we are going on a date tomorrow.” 

“A date!” Cora said, clapping her hands, then hugging Derek. Derek groaned. He hadn’t realized Cora was listening in. He had been hoodwinked by his sisters. Peter remained quiet, but had one single eyebrow raised as he continued working. 

“Do tell.” Derek sighed at Cora, rolling his eyes. “Tell or I will tickle you.”

“I am having him over to my place, and I am cooking for him.”

“Oh, straight for the golden ticket,” Laura said with a smile. “Feed him and he will keep coming back for more. Like a kitten.” 

“He isn’t a kitten,” Derek said in exasperation. 

“I bet you make him purr,” Cora teased, her finger brushing annoyingly across Derek’s ear. Derek swatted at her. 

“Stop,” he said just as his phone began to ring. 

“Is that him?” Laura asked. 

“It has to be him,” Cora said as she tried to grab Derek’s phone. Derek placed his hand on Cora’s head to make her keep her distance from him as he answered the phone.

“Hey,” Derek said into the receiver. 

“Hey, you busy?” Stiles asked him. Derek looked at his soup, then at his sisters who leaned a little too close to him. 

“No, hold on though,” Derek said as he walked out of the kitchen and onto Laura’s balcony, shutting the door behind him. “Okay, hi.” 

“Hey,” Stiles chuckled. “How are you?” 

“Good. I’m at my sister’s, making my family dinner.” 

“Oh, wow, want me to let you-”

“No, no. They can do without me for a few minutes.” 

“I won’t keep you for too long, though. I wouldn’t want to get on their bad sides.” 

“That is probably wise,” Derek joked. “So while I have you on the phone, any requests for tomorrow night?” 

“Hmm,” Stiles said as he thought. “Well, I don’t know what you make. Surprise me? I eat anything. Think of me as someone with a college kid’s appetite.” Derek laughed at him. 

“Alright, I will think of something.” 

“I’m not big on peas,” Stiles slipped in, clearing his throat as if embarrassed by his admission. “Or turnips.” 

“Noted.” Cora was knocking on the glass window, making faces at Derek, attempting to get his attention. Derek flipped her off, then turned around to face the city street. “Thanks for calling, I wasn’t sure when you were busy today.” 

“Today has been long,” Stiles confessed. “But it is my Friday, so it will be worth it for tomorrow.” 

“I will see you then?” Derek asked. “I have to finish chopping the cilantro, dice some tomatoes.” 

“Yeah, definitely. See you at your place... Shit! Did we set a time? I forget if we did.”

“No, we didn’t. How about six? Is that okay?” 

“Perfect. See you then,” Stiles said before he hung up. Derek didn’t want to go back in, he didn’t want to talk about Stiles with his sisters. He didn’t want to be teased and prodded. 

As he walked back into the apartment, he gave them both a look. They both looked down at what they were doing, Cora back at her computer, and Laura had busied herself by chopping the cilantro and tomatoes. The silence lasted all of thirty seconds.

“So...”

“He was just checking in,” Derek mumbled as he stirred the soup, then tasted it. 

“You guys are checking in on each other?” Laura asked, her voice indicating how much she didn’t trust this relationship. Derek looked up at the ceiling, cursing the fact that he had nosy sisters. And yet, he couldn’t help but find them endearing. What if he didn’t have them, that they too were lost to him just as the rest of his family. 

“Sort of, he is working late and was on a break. We hadn’t set a time to meet tomorrow.” 

“That is so sweet,” Cora said from her seat, cooing at how adorable she thought Derek and Stiles were. “When can I meet him?” 

“No,” Derek stated plainly. “We aren’t even dating.” 

“Well at least you realize that,” Laura said under her breath. Derek shot her a glance, but said nothing. He knew full well what his relationship status was. It wasn’t up to him, it was up to Stiles. 

When Derek got off of work on Wednesday, he went straight home instead of working out. He cleaned, even though he had done so when he got home the night before. Last time Stiles came over the place was a mess. Derek wanted his place to be spotless this time when Stiles saw it. He showered, changed into something comfortable, then began preparing their dinner: eggplant parmesan. It was rather simple to make, but also happened to be one of Derek’s favorite dishes. He made it recently for his family, but he wanted to make it again, for Stiles. Derek set the table, the dining table this time, and even had candles at one point but then decided against them. He didn’t want to go overboard with this. 

There was a soft knock at his door a little after six. All of the breath in his lungs left him as he opened the door to see Stiles there, wearing casual clothes. He was wrapped up in his coat, but wearing jeans. Derek smiled from ear to ear as he ushered Stiles inside. He took Stiles’ coat from him, hanging it up. 

“You didn’t need to be buzzed up?” Derek asked as he got down two wine glasses for them, uncorking the wine. 

“I followed a couple in, acted like I lived here,” Stiles said in a shrug as he stepped close to Derek. Stiles’ hand rest on top of Derek’s, his eyes catching Derek’s, then falling to his lips. “I missed you. It sounds silly, right? I mean I just saw you, but-”

Derek kissed Stiles on the lips, effectively silencing him. He wanted Stiles to know that it wasn’t silly, because he felt the same way. Stiles relaxed against Derek as he wrapped his arms around Stiles, holding him close. 

“I’ve been waiting for that since Sunday morning,” Derek said as the kiss ended. Stiles smiled at him, then took a step back, his eyes looking to what Derek was preparing for them. 

“What are you making?” Stiles asked. “Can I help with anything?” 

“Eggplant parmesan, and no. You can watch and drink,” Derek said as he filled a glass for Stiles, handed it to him, then filled his own. “How was your day off? What did you do?” Derek asked as he leaned against the counter. Stiles mimicked him, tucking a hand under one arm as the other held onto his wine glass. 

“I slept in, had lunch with my best friend, went to the gym, did laundry...” Stiles shrugged. “Nothing of note. Basically, I just waited for our date.”

Derek smiled to himself as he re-washed his hands in order to handle the already sliced pieces of eggplant. He then went about dipping them in his breadcrumb mixture readying them for the baking sheet. He preferred baking his in the oven for a few minutes instead of frying them, because he liked the taste better this way. Derek could feel Stiles watching him, but he said nothing. 

“Are you sure there isn’t anything I can do? I mean, I can’t really cook, but I don’t want you to do all the work.” 

“I don’t mind,” Derek said easily as he put the eggplant into the oven. “I have to flip them over in five minutes.”

“Okay,” Stiles said as he pushed himself off the counter, setting his glass down. He slipped his hands around Derek’s waist, burying his face in the crook of Derek’s neck. “I wanted today to go faster so I could get here, but it went so slowly.” 

“I’m sorry,” Derek said as his lips brushed the top of Stiles’ head as his own arms wrapped around Stiles, holding him close. It felt good to have Stiles in his arms, finally, after a long three days. Derek wondered how often he would be able to do this. “If it makes you feel better, it feels like weeks since I saw you.” Stiles squeezed his arms, showing Derek that he felt the same. Derek couldn’t stop thinking about how he didn’t want to let Stiles go, how amazing it felt to have someone holding onto him, and to have someone leaning against him. 

“What if I cleared more time?” Stiles asked as their embrace ended. Stiles grabbed his wine glass, taking a sip of it before he took out his iPad from his messenger bag he brought with him. “So I could see you more.” Stiles sat on a barstool, facing Derek as he took the eggplant to flip it over. 

“I’d like to see you more,” Derek admitted. “But I don’t want you to have to clear your schedule to do it. I don’t want us to feel like something that has to be penciled in, like a session.” Derek’s words hung in the air between them, Stiles looking down at his iPad, his teeth gnawing on his lips. Finally, he looked up at Derek, nodding a little. 

“I don’t want this to be like a session, either. But I don’t know how else to see you if I don’t clear time for it.” Stiles’ voice was higher than normal as his shoulders slumped. “I don’t want to spend all week thinking about you, wanting to be around you but unable to because our schedules are opposites.” 

“Well, do you have any more gaps in your sessions like earlier this week? We could meet for dinner.” 

“Is that not like scheduling a session?” Stiles asked, scratching the back of his head as he swiped a finger through his calendar. 

“That would be a real date,” Derek pointed out. “Us meeting for dinner is a date. Us scheduling when we can have sex is like a session.” Stiles nodded his agreement, taking a longer sip of wine this time. The oven dinged and Derek took the eggplant out so it could be readied. He got a pan out, pouring in his homemade sauce, then made a layer of eggplant. He covered the eggplant in sauce then grated fresh mozzarella on top before putting it back into the oven. Derek washed his hands again, then took hold of his own wine glass. 

“Tomorrow I have time,” Stiles said as he cleared his throat. Derek shook his head.

“Thursday night is poker night, unless you wanted to come? Do you want to meet my friends?”

“I only have two hours,” Stiles admitted. Derek was standing next to Stiles, looking over his shoulder at the full calendar. Derek noticed that Stiles was looking at his lips, so he leaned over until their lips brushed together. The kiss was short, chaste, with the taste of wine lingering between them. 

“Maybe another time, then.” 

“I’d like to meet your friends, though, but tomorrow...”

“Another time, Stiles,” Derek reiterated with another kiss, this time his hand cupped Stiles’ face, his fingers running through Stiles’ hair. “When else are you free?” 

“Friday I don’t have anything until three.” 

“I work until four,” Derek murmured, his lips trailing across Stiles’ lips, along his eyebrows, and then his nose. “What does your Saturday look like?” 

“Friday night? What about Friday night,” Stiles said as his hands slid up Derek’s chest, then back down. Stiles’ legs were open, his ankles hooked around Derek’s calves as his hands explored Derek’s body. “I could come here after work, or you could come to my apartment.” 

“Won’t you be tired?” Derek asked seriously. Stiles let out a low whine as Derek’s teeth nipped at Stiles’ earlobe. “I don’t want you to be tired.” 

“I want to wake up next to you,” Stiles said with a gasp as their mouths crashed together once more. “I want to make you pancakes.” 

“Friday night, you can come over. We’ll sleep.”

“Saturday we can sleep in and I will cook,” Stiles said against Derek’s mouth. Derek nodded in agreement. “And Wednesdays are our days.” 

“I like the sound of that,” Derek said as they kissed again. Wednesdays would be _their_ days. 

Derek refilled their glasses, then ushered Stiles to the dining table. When they both sat down with their food in front of them, Stiles practically moaned when he took his first taste. 

“God, this is amazing.”

“It’s a family recipe, the sauce I mean,” Derek said with a simple shrug as he took a bite himself. 

“I had something a few weeks ago that tasted similar,” Stiles mentioned. “But this tastes better.” Derek smiled, glad that Stiles liked it. They did the dishes together, only getting into a minor water fight which left the both of them a little bit soaked. Stiles stripped off both of their shirts, tossing them in the direction of laundry room with a smirk on playing across his lips, his fingers tugging at the button on Derek’s jeans. Derek hooked his hand around Stiles’ neck, bringing him forward so they could kiss, open-mouthed and filthy. Stiles smiled against the kiss as his hands worked Derek’s jeans open, shoving them down his thighs as they made their way into his bedroom. Derek palmed at Stiles’ ass, making Stiles elicit a moan as the kiss ended. Derek ran his mouth over Stiles’ cheek, his ear. Derek’s tongue licked a stripe up Stiles’ neck before he pushed him down on the bed. Stiles lay there on his back, looking up at Derek as his own hands covered his chest. Stiles rid himself of his own jeans, kicking them off, his legs open and inviting as his cock lay limp against his stomach. Stiles’ fingers teased across his stomach, brushing against himself as his teeth grazed across his bottom lip. 

“You going to do something, Derek?” Stiles asked with a tilt of his head against the bed. Derek crawled onto the bed, hand jerking himself off, getting harder by the second as he rolled Stiles onto his side. Stiles’ head turned so he could still watch Derek, his eyes heavily lidded. “What are you going to do, huh?” Stiles asked in a moan as Derek kneaded at his ass, making him roll his hips back against Derek’s harsh hands. “Fuck, yes,” Stiles said through gritted teeth. “Slap my ass.” 

Derek sat back on his knees, his eyes wide, hands still. Stiles sat up, his face flushed, chest heaving as he looked at Derek. 

“You want me to slap your ass? To spank you?” Derek asked. Stiles shrugged, looking away from Derek’s gaze. 

“Not for punishment, but you know, sometimes if I am getting rimmed or fucked, it feels good. You don’t have to,” Stiles said. “It’s up to you.”

“No, but you want it?” Derek asked, his brows furrowed. “You want me to do that?” Stiles nodded his head, but the rest of him remained unmoving as if he was afraid to breathe, like he was sure Derek would be disgusted with him. “Okay,” Derek said as he kissed Stiles. “I can do that.” Stiles relaxed, opening his mouth for the kiss as Derek pushed him back down on the bed, into the position they were just in. They continued kissing, Derek’s hands roaming over Stiles’ body as they worked back up to a pace where they were both hard, moving against each other. It wasn’t until then that Derek touched Stiles’ ass again, his thumb brushing over Stiles’ hole, palms spreading him wide for only a moment before letting go, his hand sliding across the tender flesh of Stiles’ ass before retreating back only to smack him there seconds later. Stiles jerked forward, letting out a guttural moan, his toes curling as he arched his back, sticking his ass out more. He nodded his head, his eyes closed shut. “Is that what you want?” Derek asked, whispering into Stiles ear as his palm soothed Stiles’ reddening ass cheek. Stiles nodded again, his mouth open and wet as he let out a litany of noises as Derek did it again. Stiles wrapped his fingers around his own cock, jacking himself off as Derek pressed his chest against Stiles’ back, conforming to Stiles’ body. Derek pushed Stiles’ hand out of the way for his own. He wrapped his hand around Stiles’ cock, slowly stroking up and down as his own erection teased at Stiles’ opening. Stiles rutted back on Derek’s cock, wanting to be fucked by Derek. 

“What if I don’t fuck you,” Derek teased him. “What if I got off by jerking you off instead.” Stiles shivered, his eyes closing as Derek pushed his hard cock between Stiles’ thighs, hitting the back of Stiles’ balls. “What if I came between your legs?” Stiles moaned, his head nodding as his own hand reached back behind him, grabbing Derek’s ass as Derek began fucking into Stiles’ thighs. Stiles hissed and moaned each time Derek’s head hit the back of his balls, rubbing against him as Derek stroked Stiles’ cock in time to his thrusts. 

“Derek, I’m going to-”

“Not yet,” Derek said as he stopped stroking Stiles, making him groan out in frustration. Stiles moved his hips back in retaliation, making Derek fuck harder between his thighs. Derek shifted Stiles slightly, lifting Stiles’ arm over his head so he had access to Stiles’ armpit. Stiles moaned as he held onto the headboard as Derek licked up the inside of his armpit. He did it again, taking the time to smell Stiles. Derek groaned as he nuzzled and breathed Stiles in. Derek then licked up Stiles’ neck, his mouth teasing Stiles’ ear as he felt his own orgasm building. 

“Fuck, Derek, please,” Stiles whimpered. “I want to come.” Instead of jacking Stiles off, Derek wrapped his index and thumb around the base of Stiles’ cock, around his balls, effectively keeping him from coming. Stiles shuddered as his hands gripped the sheets around them. Derek came between Stiles’ legs, come smearing across Stiles’ balls and onto Derek’s own hand. Stiles shook with need. Derek kept moving, riding out his orgasm as he kept Stiles from his own release. When he was done, he rolled Stiles onto his back. 

Stiles looked completely fucked out, considering he hadn’t even touched Derek, his lips red, swollen, and wet from gnawing on them as Derek used him. With his come, Derek slicked up Stiles’ shaft, jacking him off smoothly with it as his tongue teased at his head. Stiles’ body shook again, his back arching as his fingers carded through Derek’s hair, yanking as he came across Derek’s mouth and face. Come covered Derek’s stubble as he licked his lips, looking up at Stiles. Stiles pulled Derek up his body, their lips locking together. Derek moaned against Stiles’ mouth, the taste of both of them on their tongues. 

Stiles grinned against Derek’s lips as they lay there, limbs tangled together. 

“You’re beard is sticky,” Stiles teased as his fingers ghosted across Derek’s cheek. In turn, Derek took Stiles’ fingers into his mouth, humming as he watched Stiles’ eyes roll back into his head. “That isn’t fair.”

“You want fair?” Derek asked, rubbing his face against Stiles’ shoulder. Stiles made a face, his fingers moving through Derek’s hair once more. 

“No, I want a shower. Fairness isn’t important right now, but our stickiness is.” Derek laughed as he rolled off of Stiles. 

“We can shower,” Derek said as he held out his hand for Stiles to take. Stiles looked at it, then up at Derek. “You okay?” Derek asked as they made their way into the bathroom, their fingers linked together. Stiles was quiet, but he nodded. 

“Yeah, just not used to... everything,” Stiles murmured as the water heated up. 

“Come here,” Derek said as he pulled Stiles closer. Stiles closed his eyes long before Derek kissed him. Stiles’ hands were in Derek’s hair again and Derek supposed Stiles liked it, the intimacy of holding onto Derek’s face and touching him wherever he wanted. “You want to stay the night?” Derek asked as Stiles ended the kiss. 

“Can I?” Stiles asked as they stepped into the shower. 

“I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want you here,” Derek admitted as they got under the spray. Stiles’ hands were on Derek, trailing through the hair on his stomach. Derek got the soap, cleaning them both off as Stiles’ mouth teased at Derek’s earlobe. Derek took his time cleaning Stiles, his hands roaming Stiles’ body, soap sliding down their bodies, swirling down the drain at their feet. 

This is where he figured Stiles would want to have sex, but Derek didn’t want that, he wanted to curl up in bed with Stiles and fall asleep with him. To Derek’s surprise, Stiles seemed to have the same idea because when they were clean, Stiles turned off the water and stepped out of the shower, grabbing them each a towel. 

Once again, Derek gave Stiles a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt to wear. They drowned Stiles, by the sheer mass of Derek’s muscles alone considering Stiles’ shoulders were just as wide as Derek’s. It was his skinnier torso that made all the difference.

It was still too early for bed, so they found a movie to watch on TV while they poured themselves more wine. Derek enjoyed Stiles’ warmth next to him, their bodies pressed together as they sat. Stiles had his head on Derek’s shoulder at one point, their fingers intertwined. They kissed their way through half of it. Lazy kisses that never went much past a teasing amount of tongue, and Derek was happy with it; he felt relaxed. It felt nice to not feel pressured that if he said something wrong that the other person would snap. He wasn’t used to easy, he was used to screaming and breakdowns. 

Stiles dozed off on the couch, his head on Derek’s shoulder, his feet tucked up underneath him. Derek, too, was falling asleep as the credits rolled. Derek nudged Stiles, waking him. 

“Stiles, want to get to bed?” Derek asked. Stiles grunted as he lifted his head, looking around the room. 

“What?” Stiles asked. 

“Bed -- do you want to go to bed?” Derek reiterated. 

“Mmm, yes,” Stiles mumbled as he stood up. 

“You go on in, I’ll get the lights,” Derek said as he yawned. Stiles went on into Derek’s room. Derek realized, then, that this felt natural: Stiles staying over. It didn’t feel forced like it had with Jen, how it was awkward and they bumped into each other when getting ready, and how the conversation was stilted after sex. Derek wondered if that was because of Stiles’ profession that he knew how to make it less awkward, or if it was because of how well they fit together. Derek hoped for the latter as he made his way into the bedroom. 

Stiles was in bed already with his eyes closed, but as soon as Derek got into bed Stiles opened his eyes, smiling lazily, sleepily. He got close to Derek as he got comfortable, his hand resting on Derek’s stomach. 

“I liked our date,” Stiles said, his breathing even, voice quiet. 

“I did, too.” 

“I can’t wait for Saturday,” Stiles confessed as he stifled a yawn. Derek kissed Stiles, happy when Stiles melted into it, his leg slipping between Derek’s as the kiss deepened. When the kiss ended, Stiles buried his face against Derek’s chest, making himself comfortable. Derek fell asleep to the rise and fall of Stiles’ chest pressed to his. Everything felt right.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> penultimate chapter.  
> never did i think when i started this fic that it would be one of my longest to date!

Stiles decided that he hated Derek’s alarm. It went off at ungodly hour when the sun wasn’t even up. He groaned as he stretched out across the bed. Derek had already turned off the alarm and was out of bed by the time Stiles registered that he was awake enough to open his eyes. 

“It’s early,” Stiles called out. Derek peeked his head out from the bathroom where he had a toothbrush in his mouth. “Come back in here.”

“I have to leave in thirty,” Derek said after he rinsed his mouth out with mouthwash. He rifled through his drawers for what he wanted to wear as Stiles watched him. Stiles was warm and contented, he didn’t want to move. He grunted as he got out of bed. His clothes were strewn across the apartment, and he ended up using Derek’s deodorant before he put yesterday’s shirt back on. He used Derek’s mouthwash then put his shoes on. 

Something felt off about the morning, about Derek. Stiles wasn’t about to pry because neither of them had any caffeine and he knew that he couldn’t think straight until he was at least halfway through his first coffee of the day. Stiles put on his coat and scarf as Derek tied his shoes. 

Stiles waited by the door for Derek, his messenger bag over his shoulder and his phone in his hand. He contemplated on going home and getting a couple more hours of sleep, or maybe just going back to shower and change clothes then heading into the office. He wasn’t sure which he wanted to do. It wasn’t until they were both in the hallway, after Derek locked the door, that Derek showed any sign of affection at all. His thumb ran across Stiles’ cheek and lips, a small smile appeared on Derek’s face before they started walking towards the elevator. 

“Did you sleep well?” Derek asked as he hit the ground floor button, leaning against the side of the elevator. Stiles stood on the other side, his hands on the handrails to either side of him, his head tilted to one side, his eyes barely open as he nodded his head in response. 

“I did. Your bed is amazing,” Stiles said with a contented sigh. Derek was silent after that, which Stiles tried not to think anything of. It was too early for deep, coherent thoughts. 

Before they parted ways, Stiles pulled Derek close to him by grabbing hold of his coat, their lips crashing together in a kiss that lasted long enough that Stiles had to breathe in through his nose. Derek’s hands slipped beneath Stiles’ coat, hugging him as the kiss deepened. All Stiles could taste was Derek’s toothpaste and mouthwash, but that didn’t matter. He didn’t want their embrace to end, even more, he didn’t want their date to be over. 

“Let’s get coffee,” Derek murmured against Stiles’ lips. Stiles grinned as he nodded his head, happy to find that Derek was just as reluctant to leave as he was. “I have time.” 

Derek asked what Stiles wanted, then told him to find them a seat. Stiles sat on a couch, making himself comfortable as he watched Derek stand in line to order. Before he knew it, Derek sat next to him, handing over his coffee. It was warm in his hands, and the first sip was a godsend. 

“What time do you get off on Friday?” Derek asked. He was sitting close to Stiles, their bodies touching all the way from their shoulders to their knees. 

“I, uh, I think I am going to cancel my last two appointments?” Stiles said as he cleared his throat. “I have two later sessions and I wouldn’t get to you until three. By that time there wouldn’t really be a point in coming over.” 

“I don’t want you to have to cancel,” Derek said, his body language telling Stiles that he was uncomfortable by how he leaned away from Stiles, crossing his leg the opposite way of him. Stiles looked down at his coffee. This was why Derek was acting weird, because he didn’t know how to tell Stiles what he wanted. “But I agree with you that three is late to come over.”

“That’s why I am going to cancel,” Stiles said with an exasperated sigh. He wanted to spend time with Derek, and his current schedule didn’t give him much leeway. Something had to change, but he wasn’t sure how much shifting around had to be done. Derek was right, no matter how Stiles went about it, it would end up like time with Derek was just another session. Stiles had to plan time to be with him. 

“Is that what you want?” Derek asked. “To cancel appointments in order to-”

“Yes,” Stiles admitted to both Derek and himself. “I can shift things around. I can find a balance. The schedule right now is a schedule that was made pre-you. This is what I have been used to, not having someone that I wanted to be with. I have to adapt in a way.” Stiles was looking down at his jeans, picking at them absentmindedly as he rambled. When he looked up, Derek was watching him. “What?” Stiles asked. 

“Nothing, I just wish I didn’t have to go to work right now.” 

“So stay,” Stiles said with a shrug, even though he knew full well that Derek wouldn’t cancel his sessions. Derek gave him a sad smile as he leaned over and kissed Stiles. Stiles kissed him back, wanting to keep him for as long as possible. 

“Come on, I’ll walk with you to the subway.” 

They kissed goodbye then parted ways. Instead of going home, Stiles went to the office. It was still early enough that Allison wasn’t even in yet. Stiles booted up his computer and started looking over his schedule. He took a stack of post-it notes from Allison’s desk, making note of the sessions he wanted moved around. He wrote down the cancellations, sticking them on the screen of Allison’s computer so she could email and reschedule them. He gave himself Monday nights off, as well as ending his Fridays by ten. He didn’t schedule anyone until after four on Saturdays so that he could have time with Derek. 

By the time Allison came in, her computer screen was covered with post-its, along with most of her desk. Stiles got all the way in his calendar to the point where they didn’t have anything scheduled at all, four months from now. Allison looked at Stiles with wide eyes as she looked at her desk in disarray. 

“Stiles, what the fuck is going on?” Allison asked as she set down her coffee. “It is nine in the morning -- what are you doing here? And what are all of these?” 

“Well, I was at Derek’s and he works at six so I’ve been here since we got coffee on his way to work.”

“Oh no,” Allison said as she sat down in her desk chair, looking at a post-it. “And these are cancellations?”

“Yeah, I need the time-”

“For Derek,” Allison interjected as she ran her fingers through her hair. Stiles shrugged his shoulders as he looked at his calendar. “I assume you want me to call and cancel these?”

“I want you to call and reschedule,” Stiles corrected. “I blocked out Friday nights past ten, Monday nights, and Saturdays until four. I am sure there is time somewhere.” 

“And if they are adamant about their original sessions? Stiles, some of these people have had those appointment times since you _started_. I’m talking about weekly and monthly customers here, are you really canceling their contracts with you for those days?” Stiles took his time before he answered Allison. 

“I will call those customers myself, then.” 

“That isn’t the point I am trying to make here.”

“I know what you are trying to say, Allison,” Stiles said, his voice rising. “And I am telling you that I want this to work. I want me and Derek to work, and right now? Right now I can only see him once a week and that is _just_ like before. It is exactly like he is a john. I don’t want him to be that, Allie. I don’t. I am trying my fucking hardest here and I want you to call those people and reschedule because I want him to be my boyfriend.” 

Stiles sat there at his desk, panting as he balled his fists together. He couldn’t recall the last time he had been so worked up over anything, let alone another person. Allison sat there in silence, watching Stiles for a time. 

“Okay, I will start calling and sending emails,” Allison said without another word. Stiles grumbled to himself, grabbing his coat. 

“I’m going to get more coffee.” 

He needed space, and he knew that staying in the office with Allison would only get him even more worked up about this entire thing. He could tell that Derek wanted to spend more time with Stiles, but he knew that Derek also wouldn’t ask for it, for Stiles to give up his work. The thing was, though, that Stiles didn’t want to stop. He liked his job, liked his life as an escort. He got paid well for what he did and he had no plans of stopping anytime soon. But, he wanted to spend time with Derek and if moving around a few appointments gave him that time then he would do it. 

By the time he made it back to the office, Allison had the post-its assembled in her own sort of order that upon looking made no sense to Stiles. He wasn’t about to say that, because she was fixing his schedule that he had fucked up. 

“I want to apologize,” Allison said as Stiles sat down. “I don’t want you to think I am not happy that you are dating.” 

“I know,” Stiles told her. “Don’t worry about it. Seriously, Allison, I am not even sure what is going on right now. You are keeping my head in the game in regards to work. I made this business and this is where I want to be. I just want some sort of balance in my life. There has to be a way to do this and have a life outside of it.” 

“Sure there is, and I can help you with that, but I know how hard you worked for this, and how busy you like to be. Maybe it will do you some good to take some time to yourself.” Stiles nodded, his attention back on his calendar. He needed Allison on his side, wanted her to understand that Derek was someone he wanted in his life.

Around lunch time, when Stiles was on his way to the penthouse to get ready for his sessions, he texted Derek. 

_I cleared Friday night._

_Really? Can’t wait to see you then._ Derek replied almost immediately. 

_I went ahead and cleared my Monday nights too? Just in case we wanted that time._ Stiles sent back. 

_I want all the time with you I can get._ Stiles grinned at Derek’s response. He already wished it was Friday. 

Stiles showered and dressed in his usual attire for his noon appointment, a quickie lunch session with a CEO who had a daddykink. Stiles’ ass was sore afterwards, red and stinging from being spanked hard. Luckily for him, his next session was with a woman who paid Stiles to go down on her until she was satisfied. It wasn’t until he had a midday break that he realized just how different sex with Derek was compared to his janes and johns. Derek made it all about Stiles, and rarely about himself. Hell, the night before Stiles barely got to touch Derek. With his customers, it was all about making them come, giving them what they needed. It wasn’t about taking anything for himself. That was what Stiles was used to. He liked making people come for a living. Hell, he liked the fact that people repeatedly came to him with their wants and needs. 

But with Derek it was different, and that scared Stiles. With Derek it wasn’t just about coming, about giving him what he wanted. He wanted to do the same for Stiles. He wanted to make sure that Stiles got what he wanted, too. Derek wanted to hold Stiles, to wake up next to him and Stiles couldn’t help but want that as well. 

Stiles sat on his couch, take-out delivered from a Chinese restaurant nearby on the coffee table in front of him as he dialed his father’s number. 

“Stiles? Is everything okay?” His father asked over the receiver. Stiles realized that he usually never called his dad in the middle of the day on a Thursday. 

“Hey, Dad... yeah, no. Everything is fine? I just wanted to talk to you,” Stiles admitted as he picked at the robe he was wearing after his shower. He had rinsed off the sweat from his past two appointments, as well as gargled mouthwash to get the taste of the jane out of his mouth. His Chinese food tasted weird and minty, unappetizing. 

“Well hold on, let me shut the door to my office. Put up my ‘do not disturb’ sign.”

“The one I made you in middle school?” Stiles asked as he laughed, running his fingers through his hair absently as he thought about the sign he made. 

“What other sign do I have? It’s useful.” Stiles bit his lip as he grinned. He missed his dad, he wished he was back home even if it was only to visit. “Okay kiddo, what’s up? Something wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong, dad. I, uh, actually wanted to tell you something?”

“Well I am all ears,” he said patiently. Stiles let out a long, audible breath. 

“I met someone, and I don’t really know what to do?” Stiles confessed as he stabbed at his steamed dumpling with his fork. His dad chuckled at him. Stiles frowned. “I’m serious here.”

“This is your first boyfriend since Danny, right?” His dad asked. 

“Well, we aren’t dating yet. But I want to date him. I am just... really busy, dad. I don’t have any time for myself, let alone someone else. How do you do it?” 

“You find the time, Stiles, if you want to be with someone. I, for one, am happy to hear that you stumbled across someone that caught your eye. I have been worried about you. You are a worse workaholic than I am, and that is a feat I never wanted you to accomplish, son.” Stiles smiled as he shifted on the couch, sitting cross-legged. 

“I, uh, moved some appointments around so that I could see him more often. His schedule is different than mine, so it is hard.” 

“Like your step-mother and I did. Hey, if we could make our day-night shift work, then so can you.” 

“Thanks, dad,” Stiles said. “I needed some reassurance.” 

“What does Scott say? And Allison?” 

“Well, they don’t really know him? Scott and I had lunch the other day but we didn’t really talk about Derek. And Allison was more worried about me moving client appointments around than about, I don’t know... about me finding someone.” 

“I guess that is what you pay her for,” his dad said with a laugh. “So this Derek, what does he do?” 

“He is a personal trainer. He is built, dad. I can’t... yeah,” Stiles laughed at himself telling his dad about how hot he thought Derek was. It was like high school all over again except now Stiles was more than comfortable with his sexuality. “He cooks as a hobby? Which is awesome. Orgasm in my mouth good.” Stiles could hear his dad laughing, which made his cheeks redden. 

“Keep it up and I will expect him here at Christmas with you.” 

“Dad, it is a little soon for that.” 

“You never know, son. But I have to go, three people have disregarded your sign since I closed my door.” 

“I should make a new one,” Stiles teased. “That would show them.” 

“That better not be my Christmas present. Love you, son.” 

“Love you too, dad.” 

“Talk soon,” he said before he hung up on Stiles. Stiles sat there for a while before he got up to change for his four o’clock appointment. 

When Stiles got off a little before midnight, he noticed that Cora had called him, twice. As Stiles walked towards the subway, he called her back. He was barely awake, not used to waking up so early. He didn’t know how Derek managed to do it everyday, but he supposed that Derek didn’t really work the same hours Stiles did. 

“Oh, thank god. I thought you were asleep already.” 

“What’s up, Ceecee?” Stiles asked as he rubbed at his eye, stifling a yawn. “I am on my way home right now.”

“Good, because I’m locked out of my apartment. I need a place to crash, and Isaac is MIA.” 

“I will be there in thirty, tops,” Stiles assured her. “But I am falling into my bed as soon as I get home, I may even fall asleep on the train and miss my stop.” 

“I’ll stay on the line to make sure you don’t,” Cora promised. 

Stiles found Cora seated in front of his apartment door, dressed nicely, but her makeup was a little blotchy like she had been rubbing at her eyes. 

“You look nice,” Stiles pointed out as he unlocked the door. “What have you been up to?” 

“I was with some friends and the big bro, they do a thing on Thursday nights. There is beer, so I go,” Cora said with a shrug as she got off the floor and followed Stiles inside. 

“I could use a beer,” Stiles mumbled as he shrugged out of his coat. “I don’t think we have any though.” 

“You look dead on your feet, to be honest,” Cora said as she ruffled Stiles’ hair. Stiles swatted at her hand, the corner of his mouth turned upwards. 

“You want to sleep out here?” Stiles asked. “Or…?”

“Are you asking if I want to share a bed, Stiles?” Cora asked with a smirk. “Want to snuggle?” She moved in, her fingers wiggling fiercely as she readied herself to tickle Stiles. 

“Not if you are going to claw me to death,” Stiles laughed as he reached out for her hands in an attempt to stop her. “But yeah, you be the little spoon.”

“Fuck no, I am the big spoon mister,” Cora said as she walked herself into Stiles’ room. “You coming, big boy?” Cora called out. Stiles snorted as he shook his head, following her into his room. “Do you have something I could wear? I am not wearing the most comfortable outfit right now.” 

“Sure, hold on,” Stiles said as he opened his drawer that had his t-shirts in it. He pulled one out for Cora, along with one for himself. He handed her a pair of pajama bottoms as well, not knowing if they would fit her. “Here try those. There are spare toothbrushes under the sink.” 

Cora went into his bathroom, shutting the door behind her. Stiles changed into his favorite sleep shirt, an old Sheriff’s Department t-shirt of his father’s that he stole back in high school along with a pair of sweatpants. When Cora emerged from the bathroom, pajama bottoms rolled up enough that they wouldn’t fall and they fit her better, she put her bundled up clothes on the chair in the corner of the room. 

“Get comfy, I’ll be right out,” Stiles said to her as he went to brush his own teeth. Stiles walked back into his room to find Cora lying down on his side of the bed. “That is definitely my side.”

“Nope, mine. Come here little spoon,” she said as she patted the bed beside her. Stiles narrowed his eyes at her, but crawled into bed. 

“I’m not really going to cuddle you,” Stiles said as he situated his pillow. 

“Bullshit, that was the agreement,” Cora teased, her hand on his shirt. “Come on, it is harmless human contact.” 

“No groping,” Stiles pointed out. “I’m not about to-”

“Did I ask you to grope me?” Cora interrupted. “Seriously?”

“No,” Stiles said as he relaxed. “You didn’t.” 

“Usually I am drunk when I snuggle. But exhausted works too,” Cora mumbled as they settled. “These sheets are really fucking soft, what thread count are they?” 

“Shh, enough talking, sleep now,” Stiles said as he let out a sigh, turning on his side away from Cora. Her hand slipped around his middle, effectively making him the little spoon. He grinned to himself as he drifted off. 

The first thing Stiles noticed when he woke up was the fact that he was hard. The second was the fact that he wasn’t alone in bed. He was laying on his side, thankfully, away from his bedmate. Their arm was wrapped around his waist, holding tight to him. Stiles in his sleep addled state, relaxed into the warmth of them. 

“Derek,” Stiles whispered to himself as his own hand brushed across his erection. Morning sex would be nice, would be _amazing_. Stiles wanted it, wanted Derek. 

“Not Derek,” Cora mumbled. Stiles sat up, wide-eyed, pulling on his shirt to cover the obvious tent in his sweatpants. Cora was grinning, her eyes barely open. Stiles wasn’t hiding anything. “Who is this ‘Derek’ you speak of?” 

“I… shit,” Stiles practically fell out of his bed. “I’m sorry, Ceecee. I thought that-”

“Relax,” Cora said as she sat up, stretching as she yawned. “I know you guys wake up ready to go in the morning.” Stiles laughed as he ran into the bathroom. “I have a brother you know!” Cora shouted from bed. 

“Is he hot?” Stiles asked as a joke from behind the door.

“Objectively, I guess. I will try not to think of my brother as you jack off in the bathroom like a teen hiding from their parents as I make us coffee. Come out when you’re done!” 

Stiles groaned as he leaned against the bathroom door, his hand palming at his dying hardon. The thought of jacking off with Cora in the other room lessened his need to come. At least he hadn’t come in his pants in his sleep. Not that he had done that in years, because he hadn’t. But it would definitely be the only thing that would be worse than this situation that Stiles could think of. Stiles brushed his teeth, flossed, and waited for his erection to completely fail him before exiting the bathroom. 

“That was fast,” Cora commented with her eyebrows raised. Stiles snorted with a shake of his head as Cora poured him a cup of coffee. It was way too early to be talking to Cora about his stamina, or lack thereof in her imagination. 

“I didn’t,” Stiles offered. “You killed the mood.”

“Aww, just what every girl wants to hear. Cora Hale, killing boners since 1992!”

“Did you say ‘Hale’?” Stiles asked with his eyebrows drawn. “Do you have a-”

“Don’t change the topic, Stiles!” Cora said, cutting him off. “So tell me about this Derek character. He real or the imaginary fuck buddy of your dreams?” Stiles grinned as he took a sip of his coffee. 

“He is this guy I am seeing...”

“Oh, nice. Okay, where did you meet him? Work?” Cora asked, leaning in close to Stiles. Stiles cleared his throat, looking away from her. 

“Well, I guess that is how it happened.” 

“So have you guys spent the night together? You wouldn’t have called me his name if you hadn’t.” 

“Why are you asking me all these questions if you already know the answer?” Stiles asked. 

“Because my brother is seeing someone and isn’t telling me jack shit about it so I am going to bug you instead.” Stiles rolled his eyes at Cora. 

“Great, thanks.” 

“Well, I have a nine o’clock class and I need to shower. Who decided that classes on Fridays should be a thing?” Cora rambled as she went into Stiles’ room to gather her things. “My roommates better be home to let me in because this shit is ridiculous. See you!” 

Stiles slid down onto his couch as soon as Cora was out the door, his head in his hand, his eyes still wide from all of her questions. Stiles got up and got ready to go to the gym. He ran, lifted weights, then ran again until he could barely feel his legs. He got a smoothie from Jamba Juice on his way to the penthouse. 

Allison had emailed Stiles first thing in the morning letting him know that his usual late night Friday appointment wanted to be moved to eleven in the morning instead. Stiles was fine with the change, knowing that the client was a long-standing one. So he showered quickly and got ready for their arrival. Sure enough, at ten till eleven, there was a knock at his door. 

“Hello, David,” Stiles greeted in his usual fashion. “Thank you so much for being understanding in moving your usual session time.” Stiles ushered the john into his penthouse. David Williams was one of Stiles’ first clients and never missed a Friday night appointment. 

“I was disappointed to find out that you will no longer be taking that appointment time,” David said as he loosened his tie. Stiles nodded his head in understanding. “Perhaps we can come to a new agreement.” 

“What did you have in mind?” Stiles asked, his back stiffening at David’s tone. “Want me to get out the calendar? We could-”

“That won’t be necessary,” David said indicating that he wanted to sit on the couch. Stiles took the cue and sat down, leaving plenty of room for David. He sat near Stiles, their thighs touching. Stiles supposed he should react, to reach out for him, to play his part. He didn’t want to, though. He shifted his leg away from David. David stopped him by putting his hand on Stiles’ thigh, his thumb caressing Stiles’ leg. Stiles bit his lip, shoving his feelings for Derek down his throat as he forced himself to smile, to lean into the touch and slide closer to David. 

This was his job, this was a long standing client whom he canceled his weekly appointment with. Stiles needed to keep him happy. David kissed Stiles greedily, with too much tongue and force to be tender. Stiles breathed into it, or tried to, his hand coming up to David’s neck, trying to slow it down. 

Eventually, Stiles backed away enough so that he could breathe. 

“What did you want to discuss about your contract?” Stiles asked as he shifted his body so that he was facing David, straddling him as his fingers ran through David’s hair, trying to calm down the possessiveness that Stiles didn’t care for. 

“I have been meaning to ask you, our last couple of sessions,” David said as his palms slid up and down Stiles’ thighs. Stiles rocked gently against the touch, knowing what David liked best. Frottage was up high on the list. 

“Go on,” Stiles said as his lips grazed David’s earlobe. 

“I want you to be mine,” David rasped, his grip on Stiles tightening. “I want to pay you enough that you would consider me to be your only client.” Stiles stilled, his heart beating out of his chest. Stiles swallowed as he dropped his fingers from David’s hair. 

“My sole client?” Stiles asked, confused. “I don’t-”

“I want you, Stiles. Only you. I want to care for you, and I don’t care what that cost is.” Stiles shook his head, his heart rate quickening as he thought about Derek. “I want you so bad,” David said as he rolled his hips upwards, showing Stiles how hard he was for him. Stiles scrambled off of David, carding his own fingers through his hair. 

“I can’t do that, David,” Stiles stated. David was standing, his demeanor clearly changed. “I can’t drop all of my clients for you. I have a life, I like what I do-”

“You like fucking, right? I will fuck you so hard.” David started towards Stiles with a hand raised. Stiles grasped his wrist, stopping him, his face hard. 

“Consider our contract terminated, David. If you don’t leave this room right now, you will hear from my lawyer. Believe me, you wouldn’t want to get on her bad side.” 

“Try to sue me, you whore, and see what happens. My lawyer is Lydia Martin.” Stiles smirked at David. 

“So is mine.” David recoiled, then. His glare remained on Stiles, though, as he started to leave. 

“You would be set for life,” David said, as if that would sway Stiles. “You really want to fuck people for money the rest of your life?” Stiles bristled, his anger showing on his face as he clenched his fists. 

“I don’t want to fuck _you_ for the rest of my life,” Stiles spat. “Now get out.” 

With a slam of the door, David was gone and Stiles was so angry he was tearing up. He screamed, letting out his aggression. 

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Stiles shouted. He paced around the penthouse, fuming. How dare David think that Stiles would just drop everything, everyone, for him. How dare he think that one lump sum of money would sway Stiles. He had Allison to think of, he had himself on the line. He had Derek. 

Stiles couldn’t wait for ten to come around. He wanted to be near Derek, to hold him and be held by him. For the first time ever, Stiles wished he didn’t have to fuck people all day. 

He calmed down by his next appointment. He had a nice dinner with a couple, and an even nicer evening with the two of them between the sheets. Stiles felt better, but still not himself by the time his last session ended. Stiles showered, taking his time washing off the day. 

By the time he knocked on Derek’s door, he was so trapped within his own mind that he didn’t even realize that Derek had him wrapped up in a hug and was whispering in his ear that everything was okay. Stiles sucked in a deep breath, burying his face against Derek’s neck as he held on tight. 

“Bad day?” Derek asked. Stiles nodded. “Want to talk about it?” 

“No, I just... want to be with you,” Stiles admitted as they walked into the apartment and Derek was able to shut the door. Stiles took off his coat then had his arms around Derek once more. 

“I don’t think I have ever seen you upset, are you sure you don’t want to talk-”

“Yeah, I am sure,” Stiles said as he started tugging on Derek’s pants, trying to get him out of them. He wanted to touch Derek, to feel him, to fuck him. He needed Derek. Derek’s hands on Stiles’ wrists stopped him. 

“Hey, hey, slow down there. I wanted to spend time with you.” Derek had a hand on Stiles’ face as he pushed Stiles’ hands away. Stiles took a step back, his chest constricting. He wanted so badly to be fucked by Derek. His skin crawled as he thought about David. 

“Please fuck me,” Stiles pleaded, his fingers curling around Derek’s shirt, tugging him closer. “I need you to fuck me.” Stiles kissed Derek, his hand palming at Derek between his legs. Derek didn’t kiss back, his hand stilling Stiles’ movements once more. 

“Stiles,” Derek said firmly. “What is going on? Talk to me.” Stiles’ chest was heaving. He thought he was being quite clear with what he wanted. 

“Nothing is going on, can you please just... I need this. I need you to fuck me, I need your cock in my mouth and I need you. I just _need you_ ,” Stiles said desperately, his hands out in front of him practically pleading. Even though he showered, he still felt others on him. He wanted comfort, he needed to smell like Derek, to feel him encompass him. 

Derek shook his head, his shoulders tense. Stiles jaw clenched as he took a step back. 

“You don’t want to fuck me?” He asked, doubt filling his mind. David’s words flooded his thoughts, _You like fucking, right? I will fuck you so hard_. Stiles tugged at his hair, yanking on it in frustration. Derek reached out for Stiles, his hand landing on Stiles’ shoulder. 

“Stiles, I do, but we need to talk first.” 

“Why?” Stiles asked. “What is there to talk about? It’s fucking. I need you to fuck me, Derek.” Stiles let Derek pull him close, and Stiles could feel himself relaxing as his body pressed against Derek’s. 

“There is apparently a lot we need to talk about,” Derek said as Stiles shut his eyes, breathing Derek in. He smelled so good, like home. Stiles grimaced as he pulled on Derek’s shirt, lifting it so his hands could have skin on skin contact. “Something happened today, I can tell. Stiles, I need you to tell me what happened.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Stiles snapped. “I already told you-”

“If we are going to be in a relationship, Stiles, you need to trust me. Do you trust me?” Derek asked. Stiles bit his lip as he let Derek take a step back from him, his hands on Stiles’ shoulders as he locked his gaze with Stiles’. 

“I can take care of myself,” Stiles blurted out. Derek closed his eyes for a moment, clearly disappointed in Stiles’ answer. “I am _fine_ , Derek. I had a bad day, like you said, but I can handle it.” 

“Stiles,” Derek said with a shake of his head. “You don’t trust me. I can’t. This? Us? Is not just about sex, you know that.” 

“I know,” Stiles said. “I know,” he repeated as he cupped Derek’s face in his hands. “What I need right now, is sex though. Derek I can’t explain myself right now. All I can tell you is that I want you to fuck-”

“And I am telling you that I will fuck you, hard, and make you come. I will take care of you if you just tell me if someone hurt you again,” Derek said with a raised voice. Stiles flinched. “Someone hurt you, didn’t they?” 

“Not like Deucalion,” Stiles whispered. “Nothing like that.” Derek took Stiles into his arms again, hugging him close as he pulled Stiles over to the couch. They sat there, foreheads pressed together for a moment, gathering their thoughts. “I promise,” Stiles said some time later, his lips ghosting across Derek’s. 

This time, Derek kissed him back. Stiles climbed into Derek’s lap, straddling him as the kiss continued, deepened. It was a desperate kiss, prodding and invasive. Stiles needed to be closer, to feel closer to Derek. Sex was the only way he knew how to get what he needed. 

“Please,” Stiles moaned as Derek’s hands gripped his ass through his pants. Stiles moved his hips, hoping Derek wouldn’t push him away. Derek’s hands slid from Stiles’ ass to his hips, stilling his movements. Stiles whined deep in his throat, his fingertips trailing over Derek’s throat as the kiss ended. Derek sat there for a moment, staring off into the distance over Stiles’ shoulder. 

“Tell me,” Derek urged. “I want you to be honest with me.” Stiles kept his feelings close to his heart, he always had. He didn’t have the words to tell Derek how he felt, or about David. He couldn’t tell Derek about David. Stiles grimaced, his hands fiddling with Derek’s shirt as he sat in his lap. 

He needed Derek to fuck him and he would feel better. 

“Why won’t you fuck me?” Stiles asked, evading Derek’s insistence that Stiles tell him what happened. 

“Because you won’t open up and treat me like someone who cares about you.” Stiles winced as he licked his lips. “I’m not here to fuck you.” 

“Well I’m here to get fucked,” Stiles said, his palm flattening against Derek’s chest. 

“Then we are at an impasse,” Derek said, exasperated. Stiles glared at him. “I’m not paying you-”

“That’s right,” Stiles hissed. “You’re not.” He got off of Derek, then, and went to grab his coat, his hands shaking. 

“Stiles, don’t-” 

“No!” Stiles shouted, turning around to face Derek. “You’re right in that. You aren’t paying me. You told me to be honest so this is me opening up: I need sex, Derek. I need it and that is why I fuck for money. Emotions fuck with me and I don’t want to rely on anyone, because people let me down. They break my heart and they fuck up my life. Fucking people for money saves me from getting my heart broken and I can’t...” Stiles took a deep breath. “All I wanted was for you to fuck me.” 

“I will if you just listen to me!” Derek shouted back. “Stiles, I like you, a lot, but I’m not some fuck machine for you to jump onto instead of facing your emotions.” Stiles scoffed at him. “That isn’t a relationship.” 

“Maybe I’m not cut out for a relationship, then,” Stiles said, covering his mouth with his hand after he said it. 

“Don’t say that,” Derek murmured quietly. “Just talk to me and we can work this out.” 

“I don’t even know what you want me to say!” Stiles exclaimed. “I don’t know what you want from me, Derek. I like you, I want you. Fucking hell, I don’t fall for people, ever,” Stiles explained, his shoulders moving animatedly, his hands doing the same. “And I just fucking lost a huge client today, alright? I am talking huge-” Stiles stopped mid-sentence because of the way Derek was looking at him. “I don’t know how to do this,” Stiles admitted aloud. 

“There isn’t a guide book,” Derek pointed out. “Life doesn’t come with an outline.” Stiles looked away from Derek as he gnawed on his bottom lip. 

“Tell me what you want me to say, I can never tell with you. I don’t know what you want.” Derek looked pained, and it made Stiles upset, the look in Derek’s eyes. 

“I am not some john for you to appease. I can’t make you say anything. I want you to want to tell me things.” 

“You aren’t a john,” Stiles muttered as he wiped at his eyes. “I know you aren’t one.” 

“Then stop treating me like one.” Stiles bristled. 

“I haven’t, I’m not... Derek, _I like you_ , but I can’t fucking do this.” Stiles’ heart was pounding so hard that he could hear it in his ears as the words left his mouth. He couldn’t believe he said them. 

“What?” Derek said as if the wind had been knocked out of him. 

“You heard me,” Stiles said as he finished putting his coat on. 

“That isn’t... Stiles, please don’t leave.” 

“Why? So you can tell me how much I fucking fail at expressing emotions that I didn’t want to begin with?” 

“You can’t say you like me then fucking leave,” Derek said angrily, taking a step toward Stiles. “That is bullshit.”

“Sorry to fucking disappoint you then,” Stiles hissed as he reached for the door. 

“How about you call me when you figure out what you actually want!” Derek shouted as Stiles left, slamming the door behind him. 

He made it to the elevator before he was able to breathe. As he pushed the button to go down to the lobby, he felt his stomach sink. He slid down the wall of the elevator, clutching at his coat. He broke it off with Derek. Overwhelmed, Stiles started laughing hysterically. He ruined it. All it took was his inability to tell Derek how much he needed him. Just one fuck up. 

Stiles sniffed, wiping at his eyes as he walked out into the cool, night air. He thought about how he had shifted everything around to make room for Derek, about Allison’s words of warning, about how happy he had been. Stiles felt hot, wet tears falling from his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried. He wiped at them in vain, trying to stop them from reaching his chin. 

He pulled out his phone from his pocket, pressing call. 

“Stiles?” His dad asked, surprised. 

“Dad,” Stiles croaked. “Oh, fuck.” 

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Stiles shook his head as he stopped walking. 

“I made a mistake,” Stiles told him. “I spoke too soon.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank my betas again. You are an amazing support system and this wouldn't have been written without you. 
> 
> And I want to thank everyone who read this, everyone who subscribed, everyone that reblogged the links, who kudos'd, who bookmarked, who at replied me their feelings, who left me messages, and those of you who commented. Without you, writing wouldn't be worth it.

It wasn’t as though Derek thought Stiles would call him the next day or anything. In actuality, he thought maybe by the third or fourth day he would hear something, maybe get a voicemail about wanting to talk. But after a week of silence, Derek began to second guess that assumption. Perhaps Stiles wouldn’t call despite Derek telling him to come find him when he got his shit together.

Derek wasn’t going to be the one to cave, though, and reach out. He didn’t want to play games, and he didn’t want to be strung along. He really thought that Stiles liked him, he had been sure of it. But that didn’t mean Stiles was willing to go into a relationship. It hurt, knowing that Stiles cared about him and yet hadn’t texted or called. 

He wouldn’t be the one to break the silence, but that didn’t stop him from checking his phone, even when it wasn’t on silent. It didn’t stop him from opening his email despite the fact that he got notifications on his phone. He wanted Stiles to call him, but he knew that pushing wouldn’t help. 

After two weeks, Derek stopped hoping that every text would be Stiles; he knew it wouldn’t be, so he stopped waiting. Between work, family night, and poker night Derek kept himself busy. 

He wouldn’t let Stiles affect him in the same way that Jen had. He went to the movies with Boyd and Erica, he took his little sister to Coney Island for her birthday weekend, he took on more clients to work longer hours, he finished that book he had been meaning to for months. Derek _did things_. All he wanted was time. He knew that with time, it might hurt less. 

It was Laura’s idea to hold an early Christmas party, before everyone went off for the holiday to spend it with family. 

“It will give you something to do,” Laura told Derek the week before Thanksgiving. It had been a little over three weeks since the fight, and Derek was in the middle of making a hearty soup. He was cutting up beef to add to the broth when she suggested it. “I am suggesting this now so you have time to plan it. We could decorate, you could cook for all your friends. We can invite people and do it here.” Derek shrugged. 

“Sure,” he murmured as he thought about how he could have had Stiles by his side at this party, if he had given in and fucked him. Derek stopped chopping the beef into cubes, his eyes widening and hands shaking slightly. It wasn’t something he had ever allowed himself to think about. What would have happened if he had just fucked Stiles and didn’t push the issue. There was no use in wondering such things, about going back in time and changing what was said, but there it was. He thought it. 

“Derek?” Laura asked from where she was stirring the soup. “Are you-”

“I’m fine,” Derek said as he went back to chopping. He wasn’t, but he would be. Eventually. 

Instead of thinking about the fact that he still hadn’t heard from Stiles, Derek thought about Thanksgiving. He went about planning their family dinner: their family’s recipe for stuffing and gravy, green bean casserole that was made the same way their father had always done, and the cranberry sauce recipe that Cora adored. He placed the grocery order to be delivered to his place the day before Thanksgiving. He already had the turkey thawing out in his sink. They did Thanksgiving at his apartment because his oven was bigger than Laura’s. The year before they had attempted to do Thanksgiving at her place, but the turkey they bought didn’t fit in her oven. 

Thanksgiving itself was rather standard: watch the parade, eat, watch football, get drunk. Since Derek made the food, he was never on dish duty, which was fortunate for him because he actually hated doing the dishes. He and Peter sat on his couch, beers in their hands, as they watched football. Derek felt the whole body buzz thing going on, indicating that the alcohol was doing its job. He picked at the label, looking down at it instead of watching the actual game. He jumped in his seat as he felt his phone vibrating. 

His breath caught in his throat when he saw Stiles’ name pop up on the caller ID. Derek stood up, walking straight into his room. He shut the door, knowing full well that both Cora and Laura were eyeing him as he did so. He answered it, then waited a moment before speaking. He hoped, for a brief moment, that Stiles was finally ready to talk. 

“Hello?” Derek asked. His hope plummeted when he heard shuffling and muffled voices. He heard laughter and vague conversations and the rub of fabric against the receiver. He had been pocket dialed. Derek sat down on his bed, his head hung low as he listened. He didn’t want to hang up, just in case. It wasn’t until the voices became clearer, when Derek realized that the phone was out of Stiles’ pocket that he began to panic. 

“Derek?” Stiles voice said, clearly realizing that he had pocket dialed him. Derek hung up, then, dropped his phone on the bed. He downed his beer. Stiles hadn’t called to talk, hadn’t even meant to. 

When Derek emerged from his room, he was met by his sisters with their arms crossed standing in front of his bedroom. He thought, for a moment, about shutting the door on them but he knew better. 

“Was that him?” Laura asked, concerned. Cora was frowning at him, which only made Derek sigh with exasperation. 

“It was, but he butt dialed me. Didn’t mean to.” 

“Did you hang up immediately?” Cora asked. When Derek didn’t answer it was Cora’s turn to exhale in frustration. “Did he realize?”

“Eventually.” 

“Derek!” Laura shouted a little louder than she originally intended, due to the amount of wine she had at dinner. “What the-”

“I couldn’t hang up on him!” Derek exclaimed. “So fucking sue me, Laur.” 

“But he noticed,” Cora pointed out. “What happened then?”

“I hung up when he realized.” 

“So you didn’t really talk to him?” Laura asked. Derek shook his head. “I am not sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing,” she admitted. 

“Doesn’t matter. Let’s eat some pie.” Laura had been in charge of dessert. She made homemade pumpkin pie, along with apple cobbler, and pecan pie. Derek took a piece of each because he wasn’t above eating his feelings sometimes. He knew he’d be back at the gym first thing the next morning anyway. 

Two weeks before Christmas, Derek went to the Shake Shack on a whim. He was almost done with his Christmas shopping and thought that he deserved something for dealing with the stress that was buying for his sisters. It took him almost five minutes of waiting in line before he realized that Allison was in front of him. She was looking down at her phone, her finger sliding across it as she checked something, not paying attention. Derek thought about bolting, about leaving. But if he got out of line now it would be weird, so he stayed. It wasn’t until after Allison ordered that she noticed him. She did a double take, her lips pursed. 

“Derek,” She said with a nod of her head. “Fancy running into you here.” Derek nodded in return, not really knowing what to say. Tension hung in the air between them, both of them looking away from the other. 

Derek ordered, expecting Allison to leave him without another word. When she was still there beside him he wasn’t sure what to do or say to her. She was eyeing him with her arms crossed, obviously thinking about what she where she wanted to start. 

“You know-” she started to say, but stopped. “I hope you are happy,” she said instead. Derek raised his eyebrows in confusion. “I warned him, I did. I told him to not get hurt. Did you get off on that? On breaking him?”

“I didn’t break him,” Derek pointed out. “He’s the one that walked out and didn’t call back. I told him to come back when he figured his shit out.” Allison rolled her eyes at him in anger. 

“You shouldn’t have gotten involved with him,” Allison spat. “You don’t fuck him,” she began to whisper, “without paying.” 

“That was all on him, if you recall. That wasn’t on me,” Derek seethed. They were in public, barely a foot from each other, anger rising between them. “All I wanted was for him to talk to me. All he wanted was sex.”

“Of course that’s what he wanted,” Allison hissed. “Do you know how long it took him to open up to me? To my fiancé, who just so happens to be his best friend? Stiles doesn’t _talk_. He doesn’t say how he feels. He wanted _contact_. He had just lost his biggest client, a long standing one that gave him the offer of a lifetime and he turned them down for _you_ and he needed you to-” Allison stopped, breathed, then shut her mouth. “I am not explaining this to you. I never liked you, I knew you’d break his heart.” 

“He broke my heart,” Derek said, albeit petulantly. “Don’t think he didn’t do the same to me.” Allison frowned at him. Allison’s order was called, and that was that. She went and got it, their eyes meeting as she passed by him. He got his shake as his order was called right after, but he suddenly wasn’t feeling like having it anymore. 

As Christmas neared, Derek found himself staying over at Laura’s more and more. She had a guest room which he was welcome to. It was weird, feeling the need to be alone, but not wanting to be lonely. Having Laura be in the same apartment as him felt better, in a way. He had someone to watch movies with, to plan the food for the party with. He didn’t want to be left alone, he hated being in his apartment with no one else there. 

Derek had his recipes laid out in front of him on the coffee table, a pad of paper in his hand as he wrote down everything he needed. He checked, then double checked before he made the order to the online grocery store. Laura had basically the same spread of papers and recipes sprawled across the kitchen table while she readied desserts. They decided it would be an appetizer and dessert party, with finger foods, just to be easier. 

They had HGTV on in the background, some house hunting show that Derek had no interest in but Laura loved. 

“Those assholes don’t know what they fucking want,” Laura mumbled to herself as she pulled out another recipe out of her box. “Should I make almond cheesecake bars or raspberry white chocolate bars?” She asked as she frowned. 

“Both?” Derek said with a shrug. “Give them options.” 

“I think I want to make mini tarts.” Derek rolled his eyes, sighing audibly. “Hey, I listened to you go on and on about which dip you wanted to make, so you can deal.” 

“I like bars better than tarts,” Derek admitted. “But tarts make people _oooh_ and _ahhh_ , so whichever you want.” 

“You know, I invited that guy I told you about to the party,” Laura segued. Derek raised his eyebrow as he scrolled through Reddit. “Der, you know? The one I wanted you to go on a date with.” Derek looked up at her as if she was speaking in tongues. 

“No.” 

“Don’t be like that. He’s cute, he is single, he’s just as in love with the gym as you are, he is smart-”

“Not interested,” Derek cut in. 

“Well he is coming to the party, he runs in the same group that Scott and Boyd do.” If he was friends with them, maybe Derek would at least entertain the idea of a date. Maybe. 

“Okay, sure,” Derek muttered as he clicked an article to read. 

Derek took the entire day of the party off work in order to cook. He had six different dishes that he decided to make, knowing that various guests would also be bringing things to supplement his. He had a few dishes that took some time to make such as a holiday brie en croute, crab and lobster stuffed mushrooms, and phyllo turnovers with shrimp and ricotta. He also made sweet and sour meatballs from scratch the day before that only needed to simmer in the crockpot so they were ready to go. The last things he made were the caprese skewers and a dill dip for cut up vegetables. 

Laura had baked everything she was using at her shop ahead of time in order to give Derek space in the kitchen. Derek was sure that if Laura had been in the same space as him that they would have bitten each others heads off. 

Just as Cora arrived to decorate, Derek pointed out what was what in the oven, heating up. He needed to shower and change before the party since he was officially done cooking. It had felt good to cook, to completely lose himself for hours as he worked. He didn’t think about Stiles once. Of course, that changed as soon as he showered. Stiles was a sore spot still, despite the fact that Derek would be meeting this so-called blind date at the party. 

When Derek got out of the shower he could hear Christmas music playing, Cora singing along loudly as she and Laura hung up lights and mistletoe. Derek looked at himself in the mirror, at how his stubble had gone from a few days worth to almost two weeks. He was definitely into beard territory, now. It was rare for it to ever get this length, but Derek decided to keep it. He liked it. 

He wore a pair of jeans, along with a plain white button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Laura’s apartment was rather warm, and with company coming it would get even warmer despite the cold outside. There was even a chance of snow. It was officially winter in NYC when the snow started to fall. 

Luckily, Laura’s guest bedroom had its own bathroom, so when the first guest arrived Derek didn’t feel at all guilty that he was still in his room. Peter wasn’t showing up until later, so he knew it wasn’t him. Derek wasn’t ready to mingle, he decided. Instead, he remade his bed, folded the socks that he had been putting off for so long that he needed to put a pair together just to wear them, then he decided that his sink needed to be wiped down. After washing his hands to waste time, Derek emerged from his room to find the apartment full of their friends and acquaintances. He smiled and nodded at Erica and Boyd as he made his way to the kitchen to grab a glass of wine. People had plates of his food in their hands, conversations filled the apartment and made Derek feel more relaxed. He stood with Laura for a while as she talked with friends from her bakery but then found himself back in the kitchen, cleaning up after everyone. He went around emptying the trash, adding new garbage bags so people could throw away their used plates and napkins. 

Derek even grabbed himself a plate, tasting a little of everything. Erica and Boyd had brought spinach and artichoke dip, which he loved. Someone brought a cheese ball, along with an amazing hot seafood dip. Derek got seconds of that, knowing it wouldn’t last long. 

“Derek!” Laura called out, urging him to come over. Derek knew that it would be his future date that he was meeting when he went over. There was no more stalling on that front. He tossed his plate into the trash before wiping his hands, making his way over to them. “Derek, this is Danny, Danny this is Derek,” Laura said by way of introduction. Derek reached his hand out to shake Danny’s. Laura had been right, Danny was his type. Danny smiled at him as he shook Derek’s hand.

“Glad to finally meet you,” Danny told him. 

“Likewise,” Derek said in answer. Laura was beaming, obviously happy. “Laura hasn’t told me much about you, though.” 

“Well, maybe we can change that,” Danny said conversationally, flirting. Derek gave him a small smile, then someone caught his eye. Or, rather, someone that reminded him of Stiles caught his eye. They were talking to Cora, along with Scott and- 

Allison. Allison Argent was at his party. Derek’s brow furrowed, his jaw clenched. What was she doing at his family’s party?

“Excuse me a moment, Danny, I will be back,” Derek said, his hand brushing Danny’s upper arm as he walked by him. Derek made a beeline for Allison, her eye catching his at the last moment, widening. Derek was about to ask her what the fuck she was doing there when Cora interrupted him. 

“D! Oh, you have to meet Stiles,” Cora said. Derek’s heart stopped, his gaze still locked on Allison’s. She bit her lip as if she understood. Derek turned his head, even though he didn’t want to. Time seemed to slow as he looked at Stiles. His heart throbbed painfully in his chest as it beat, his stomach clenching tight. Stiles looked good. He was wearing one of his suits, sans the jacket. He had a glass of wine in his hand while the other hung casually in his pocket. It reminded Derek of all of the times in the penthouse. Derek looked down, half expecting Stiles to be barefoot. He wasn’t. “Stiles, this is my brother, Derek.” 

Stiles and Derek both stood there, unmoving as they looked at each other. Derek breathed in and out, breaking contact first by looking to his little sister. 

“ _You’re_ Ceecee?” Derek asked her. Cora’s brow furrowed as she looked at Stiles, and then it dawned on her. 

“Holy shit,” she said as she covered her mouth. Stiles took a long sip of his wine before he said anything, his eyes catching Scott’s momentarily. 

“Derek, can I talk with you in private, please?” Stiles asked, his voice professional and calm. Derek stiffened. 

“Dude, you know Derek?” Scott asked, his jaw dropped. Allison tugged on Scott’s shirt, urging him to stop. “How does he know Derek?” Scott inquired as Derek led Stiles to the guest room. Once they were inside, Stiles’ facade fell away immediately. 

“You know Cora? You don’t just know... Cora. You are Cora’s older brother.” 

“And you are the invisible roommate that I didn’t think actually existed. And you know Scott, is Scott with Allison? I feel like my life is a lie right now,” Derek said as rubbed his hands against his beard. 

“Scott’s my best friend from high school, it’s how I met Allison. I can’t believe you are Cora’s older brother who cooks. Holy shit you made me all that food I loved-”

“You loved my food?” Derek asked, his hands dropping from his beard. Stiles was sitting on his bed with his hands in his hair, practically yanking on it. It wasn’t until than that Derek realized they were having a semi-normal conversation. He remembered that Stiles left him, then his demeanor changed. “What now?” Derek whispered, his shoulders deflated. Stiles rubbed his hands against his thighs as he looked around. 

“Why are your things here?” Stiles asked, genuinely curious. “Are you not living in Murray Hill anymore?” 

“I haven’t wanted to live alone lately,” Derek said defensively as he crossed his arms. They were both silent after that, tension quickly filling the room. “You wanted to talk, so talk.” 

Stiles sighed, his teeth catching on his bottom lip. He looked up at Derek, his fingers clenched around his trousers, pulling the fabric tight.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles admitted. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, I’m sorry I butt dialed you. I’m sorry-”

“Why didn’t you?” Derek asked, his voice catching in his throat. 

“I was scared?” Stiles said as he looked away from Derek. “And then suddenly it was almost Thanksgiving. And then my ass called you and I was drunk, and you hung up.I couldn’t stop thinking about you... I can’t believe you are Cora’s brother.” 

“Are you seeing my sister?” Derek asked. Stiles’ jaw dropped. “She said she was dating someone new-”

“Isaac,” Stiles cut in. “She is dating Isaac. Cora and I are just friends.” 

“Okay, good,” Derek found himself saying. Stiles lifted his head at that. He had been looking down at his shoes. “Does she know-”

“No,” Stiles said with a shake of his head. “Neither does Isaac. It doesn’t matter, really...”

“What?” Derek asked. “What do you mean it doesn’t matter?” Stiles stood up and walked over to Derek. It only took two steps in the tiny room, but still, Derek felt the shift in the air as Stiles shoved his hands in his pockets and licked his lips. 

“It doesn’t matter if she didn’t know,” Stiles said with a shrug. “I closed the business.” Derek’s heart stopped. 

“You... you closed your business?” Derek said in a hushed voice. He didn’t dare say it any louder for fear of it not being true. Stiles nodded his head. 

“Last month. When I left your apartment back in October, I called my dad. I called my dad crying because I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing.” Derek listened to Stiles, unable to interrupt. Stiles wasn’t even looking at Derek. He was looking down at his shoes. “I told him everything. I told him about Danny, about my business because, he never knew what I did. That tore at me, you know? I love my dad but he never knew. I told him about you, about how I met you, how I _really_ met you because I had lied to him about that as well. I cried the entire time. Do you know the last time I cried? When my mom died. It wasn’t even when Danny broke up with me. I didn’t cry, then. Only when I thought we were over.”

Derek couldn’t stop looking at Stiles. He wanted to reach out for him, to hold him. It wasn’t his place, though. But Stiles was sharing, he was telling Derek the truth. He was _talking_. 

“I know it was my fault,” Stiles admitted as he continued on. “I fucked up because I couldn’t handle liking you as much as I did. The stress in knowing that... that I had feelings, was too much.” Stiles cleared his throat. “I got home and called Allison. She came over and we stayed up all night talking.” Stiles looked up at Derek then, his eyes glassy. “We decided to close the company because I admitted to myself that I wasn’t happy anymore. I was doing it for the wrong reasons. It took us days to contact everyone.”

“Stiles...” Derek said, his hand finally reaching out for Stiles’ face. Stiles closed his eyes at the contact. 

“I wanted to call you, but I couldn’t. Every time I hovered over your name I talked myself out of it. You deserve someone better.”

“I don’t want-” Stiles shook his head, making Derek stop mid-sentence. 

“I am seeing someone,” Stiles told him. Derek’s hand dropped. 

“I see,” Derek said as he took a step back. Stiles shook his head, his hand reaching out for Derek at once. 

“No, no. Not like that. I mean I am seeing a doctor. I see her twice a week. My dad suggested it, actually. Allison agreed with him, so did Scott.” 

“You hold a lot of weight in their words.”

“I trust them.” Derek nodded his head as he wished that Stiles would trust him, too. “And I want to trust you, too.” Stiles’s fingers grabbed hold of Derek’s shirt, bringing them both closer to one another. “I want another chance.” 

“Okay,” Derek said as he leaned in, capturing Stiles’ lips with his own. Stiles’ mouth opened, the kiss deepening almost immediately. Derek cupped Stiles’ face with his hands, slowing them both down to a chaste kiss before ending it all together. “But I want us to go slow.” 

Stiles’ lips, already reddened and swollen, turned downwards in a frown. Derek hated seeing that look on Stiles, but he knew once more he had to stand his ground. “I want us to be friends.” Stiles’ grip tightened against Derek’s shirt. “I want to get to know you.” 

“Friends?” Stiles asked. Derek nodded, leaning in to give Stiles a another chaste kiss. 

“Friends that will become more. I want you, Stiles. But I want to get to know you more.” Stiles’ eyes were searching Derek’s face, his eyes darting from Derek’s eyes to his mouth to his eyebrows and back again. “I am giving you that chance,” Derek told him. 

“Okay,” Stiles said as his hand dropped from Derek’s shirt. “Slow. I can do that.” 

“I will help you,” Derek smiled as he ran his thumb across Stiles’ cheek. “But first we have to decide how we are going to handle our friends.” 

“Our friends- oh shit,” Stiles muttered. “They’re all out there. We’re at your party. We’ve been in here for a while...”

“It’s okay,” Derek couldn’t help but laugh. “We’ll figure it out.” 

“We can do this,” Stiles told Derek, their fingers intertwining. “What are we going to say?” Stiles asked as Derek reached for the door. 

“What do you want to say?” Derek asked. 

“Everything I want to say is long and has a mile long explanation behind it.” 

“How about… we’ve been circling around our feelings but now we are on the right path?” Stiles smiled at him, then squeezed his hand. 

“Perfect.” 

Derek opened the door, and just like he had assumed: everyone was looking at both of them. Laura had her arms crossed, Cora’s hands were covering her mouth, Allison was staring at their hands that were still linked together while Scott remained dumbfounded. Then there was Danny, Derek’s new supposed date. Derek put two and two together, then, his head leaning towards Stiles. 

“Is _that_ Danny your-”

“Yes,” Stiles whispered. “Why?” 

“Because I was just set up with him.” Stiles tensed at Derek’s words, his hand tightening. 

“So, you are the infamous troublemaker,” Laura quipped. Derek glared at her, ready to defend Stiles when her face broke out into a smile, breaking the tension. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Stiles. Cora explained everything.”

“Not everything,” Stiles murmured loud enough that only Derek could hear as he shook Laura’s hand. 

“I heard a lot about you from Derek,” Stiles admitted. 

“Interesting! Because he actually never told us any details about you. Care to indulge me?”

“Laur-” Derek began to protest, but Stiles put a hand on Derek’s arm. Derek began to second guess his ‘go slow’ request because of how Stiles took charge of the situation. It reminded him why he liked Stiles in the first place. 

“I actually work in the PR department at the same company that Scott does,” Stiles divulged. Derek’s eyebrows rose, because he didn’t know that. Stiles’ thumb moved back and forth across Derek’s arm in reassurance. “They actually just told me the other day that they would pay for me to finish my Master’s, so I am thinking about doing that in the fall.” 

“Really?” Derek asked. “I didn’t know you were going for your Master’s.”

“I got a little sidetracked,” Stiles said with a sly smile. 

“So are you two together now?” Cora asked. “Because I don’t know how to handle this if you aren’t.”

“We are,” Derek said with positivity. 

“Thank god, because knowing that you are who Stiles was harping about and knowing that he was the one that had you-”

“Thanks, Ceecee,” Stiles said, interrupting her. “But I think we got this, now.” Derek leaned over, kissing Stiles on the cheek. They definitely had this. 

**Epilogue**

**6 months later.**

Stiles stretched as he woke up, his hand sliding towards the other side of the bed. He hummed as his fingers skimmed across bare skin. Derek shifted beside him, grunting because Stiles woke him up. It was Saturday, both of their days off, and they had intended on sleeping in but Stiles’ sleep patterns had a different plan. They were at Derek’s because it was more private and didn’t have Isaac and Cora across the hall. It had been four months since they had their ‘first time’, and five months since they considered themselves boyfriends. Derek started asking Stiles over to spend the night a few times a week two months ago, and now Stiles had a drawer full of all his things. 

He lay there with a sheet covering him, his fingers ghosting over Derek’s bare skin in invisible patterns, watching the rise and fall of Derek’s chest as he feigned sleep. 

“I know you are awake,” Stiles mused as he scooted closer, his lips brushing against Derek’s shoulder. Derek didn’t say a thing as Stiles rolled him onto his back, the sheet between them showing that Derek was half hard. Stiles smirked as he rolled his eyes. “You just want morning sex.” 

Derek grunted, one eye half open. Stiles hummed as his hand slid from Derek’s arm down to his stomach, fingers slipping beneath the fabric of the sheet. He dragged his nails across the hair that led down Derek’s stomach to his crotch, his mouth leaving open-mouthed kisses across Derek’s chest, his teeth catching on a nipple. Derek moaned, his legs shifting, spreading for Stiles as he wrapped his fingers around Derek’s length, jacking him off slowly. 

“You’re so warm,” Stiles murmured against Derek’s chest, his eyes lifting to look at  
Derek, whose eyes were now open and watching Stiles. Derek reached a hand up, carding his fingers through Stiles’ hair affectionately. “I want to ride you,” Stiles said as he picked up the pace, his thumb smearing a bead of precome across the head of Derek’s cock. Derek arched his back, moaning as his grip on Stiles’ hair tightened. 

“I’d like that,” Derek said, his voice hoarse from sleep, his hair a mess and his eyelids heavy from pleasure. Stiles kissed Derek on the lips, not caring that the both of them had morning breath. It was a short, innocent kiss that left him wanting more. Stiles rolled over, reaching for the lube that was on the nightstand. He poured out just enough to slick up Derek’s cock. He rubbed it through his fingers, warming it before he jacked Derek a few more times, readying him. Stiles straddled Derek, his knees on either side of Derek’s legs as he sunk down, Derek’s cock entering him easily due to their long night together. 

“Fuck,” Stiles breathed out, his head tilted backwards. Derek held onto Stiles’ hips, helping him move against him. Stiles panted as he placed a hand on Derek’s chest, looking down at him as he rocked his hips, fucking himself on Derek. “You-”

“You are amazing,” Derek said as he wrapped his own hand around Stiles’ straining cock, jacking him off as Stiles moved. Stiles leaned down, capturing Derek’s lips with his own. This was what he wanted with his life, to wake up and have sleepy, lazy morning sex with the person he loved. He wanted to spend the week with them and make dinner, get into fights about which detergent to use and what movie they wanted to watch while they were in their pajamas. He wanted comfort, he wanted love, and he had that with Derek. 

It took him a long time to accept that he had something good, that he deserved it. As he moved against Derek he raked his fingers through Derek’s hair, smiling down at him, his nose brushing across Derek’s playfully. This wasn’t anything like being with a john. This wasn’t fucking, this was something more. Stiles gasped as he felt his orgasm building. He bit his lip, pressing his forehead against Derek’s. 

“I’m going to come,” Stiles told him. 

“Not yet,” Derek said as he shifted, rolling Stiles onto his back, his legs in the air as Derek began fucking into him. 

“Oh fuck, Derek!” Stiles shouted as Derek’s hand covered Stiles’ neck. The pressure wasn’t much, barely anything at all, but the indication made Stiles shake. Derek’s lips pressed to his as he let out a shuddering breath, coming between them. Derek smiled against Stiles’ lips, deepening the kiss as his pace quickened. Stiles moaned against him, his over stimulated body becoming limp after his own climax. Derek slowed his pace as he continued kissing Stiles, his hands moving across Stiles’ neck, through his hair, over his chest. Stiles couldn’t picture his life without Derek. He was satisfied with their life together, how well they meshed. 

Derek buried his head into Stiles’ shoulder, then lifted his arm in order to run his tongue along the underside of Stiles’ arm. Stiles squirmed, moaning as his back arched. Derek’s nose brushed against Stiles’ underarm, making him buck his hips under Derek’s unrelentingly slow pace. 

“Come for me,” Stiles rasped as his hands grasped at the sheets surrounding him. Derek grunted, stilling within him, burying himself deep. Stiles relaxed as Derek came, filling him up. He pulled out slowly, collapsing beside Stiles, his head resting on a pillow. Stiles smiled lazily, rolling onto his side. They sat there in silence for a moment, just looking at each other. 

“Cora said she would be by around lunchtime,” Stiles said, breaking eye contact. He played with Derek’s happy trail as Derek closed his eyes. “Said she wanted Shake Shack.”

“She can go.”

“I promised I would hang out with her.” 

“I have been taking up most of your time,” Derek mused as he stretched. 

“Rightly so,” Stiles added as he began to sit up. Derek pulled him back down, kissing him again, trapping Stiles against the bed by slinging a leg over his body. Stiles laughed, his head resting on Derek’s arm. “Don't want to move yet?” Stiles asked. Derek shook his head. 

“I like it right here.” 

“Me too,” Stiles smiled, because it was the truth.


End file.
